


From Fire

by FlightInSnow



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Dubious Consent, Fae & Fairies, Light Bondage, M/M, Monsters, Multi, Murder Mystery, Submission, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightInSnow/pseuds/FlightInSnow
Summary: Supernatural kids are getting snatched up and no one knows by who or why. Markus is on the run after his family is wiped out and his only choice is to keep moving and never trust anyone. But soon Markus will have to decide whether to keep running or to stand and fight. When he is one the last of his kind he may find it worth making a few alliances along the way... if he makes it that far.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

\--

Chapter One  
To Run

\--

Markus was your fairly average teenage boy. He got decent grades, played football every Tuesday and Thursday (his dad had taught him how to play when he was five), rode his bike with his friends around the streets after school and played the Xbox he was given last Christmas. His favourite kind of food was Mexican and the first job he ever had was delivering newspapers. His family were well off, but his dad had wanted him to learn the value of money. He even had an annoying little brother who on more than one occasion, stole his football and got it stuck in next door neighbour's tree.

He wasn't too bad looking either, a little on the scrawny size as he had shot up several inches the year before but with light hazelnut brown hair and honey coloured eyes that looked almost gold in the right light. Yes, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Markus was a perfectly normal sixteen-year-old boy.

Except, of course, he wasn't.

He, his brother, mother and father were supernatural. The world of the supernatural was a small one. Humans still vastly outnumbered them and for the most part, those like witches, druids, lycan and nymphs stayed very much to themselves and out of the public line of sight. But even in the world of the supernatural, Markus's family was unusual. His mother had told him a long time ago that what they were was very rare. There were a few families in Arizona, a fair few in Australia, a couple in the hottest parts of Africa and the odd family in India. His kind liked the warmth.

Markus wouldn't start to develop any of his species talents until his late teens. Each city had its own tiny support group for supernatural families. It meant that children could be around others like them and learn to control whatever temper, strength or speed that might set them apart from the regular human children.

It was in this support group that Markus met his now best friend, Patrick. Patrick was a wereleopard which Markus had found particularly funny because Patrick was nothing like a leopard. He got caught his clothes caught on doorknobs, tripped over his own feet and had terrible coordination all round.

Not very cat like.

Still, the other boy loved football too, so they had bonded. Their parents had decided to put both boys in the same high school in hopes they could keep each other in line. That worked relatively well until Jason Finn had made fun of Patrick and shoved him into the garbage bin next to the basketball courts. Markus had punched the older boy on the nose and had been suspended for it.

Still. Life had been relatively normal for them up until now.

"Emily's gone." Patrick said. The two boys sat side by side, leaning against their school bags.

"Did she go to spend the week at her dad's?" Markus asked, staring up at the clouds.

"No man, I mean she's gone. She never made it to her dads. They found her phone smashed up at the bus stop down her street. No one has seen her since Wednesday afternoon when she left school." Patrick said solemnly. Markus sat up to better look at his friend.

"That makes four." Markus said, voicing what he knew Patrick was thinking.

"Yeah, I know. Mum won't talk about it but I don't think it's just our city. Our cousins over in New York said that supernatural children have been disappearing over there to." Patrick picked some grass off his jacket.

"And no-one has seen anything? I mean, I can't imagine trying to steal a Lycan cub without it's family being about to track them." Markus muttered. He kept his voice low as a few other kids passed them.

"That's what's so creepy. No one knows anything. The police know about the disappearances of course but they don't realize the connection. None of the kids went to the same school or anything." Patrick added.

"They were in the same supernatural support group" Markus concluded. Patrick nodded.

"Right. Then we stick together." Both boys stood and brushed the grass clippings off their pants as their bus pulled up. The bus was crowded with kids from various schools all ready to be taken home. Markus fought his way over to an empty seat and sat heavily, ignoring the rabble around him. He hadn't known Emily very well. She had been witch. From what he could remember of her she was a shy but pretty girl with red hair. He stared out the window. If their parents couldn't find them, who could?

\--

"Markus, how's the chemistry homework coming along?" His mother's voice drifted up the stairs.

"Badly." Markus grumbled. He scrunched up another wasted paper of notes and threw it into the bin. Chemistry was his worst subject. The formulas could have very well been written in Gaelic for all he could understand of them. At least with his math class the text box showed diagrams.

"Well come down for dinner and I'll help you with the hardest question afterwards." He groaned and trudged down the stairs. His mouth watered at the smell of the roast his mother had prepared. He piled his plate with roasted potatoes, carrot and chicken.

"Phone's away at the table Dean." His mother said without looking up from her own plate. His little brother sulked as he tucked his new phone into his jeans.

"Where's dad?" He asked.

"Running late dear. His last client was very late so he had to stay." She said.

"Rude." Markus muttered. She gave him a little grin.

"Indeed." The two boys ate vigorously. Markus wondered if he could raise the topic of conversation without seeming to... nosy.

"So..." He began, poking at carrot about his plate. His mother raised an eyebrow.

"So...?" She said dramatically. He smiled weakly.

"Have they heard anything about Emily Winters?" He asked as casually as he could. The smile faded from his mother's face. Dean looked up sharply from his own plate.

"No." She said curtly.

"Speaking of which, your father and I have been talking and we have decided to enforce a curfew."

"What!?" Dean spluttered, spraying the table with his mouth full of chicken.

"Gross dude." Markus flicked a piece of chicken off the back of hand.

"Why are we being punished?" Dean whined after swallowing. His mother's eyes flashed bright gold.

"This is not a punishment boys! This is to keep you both safe. You will go to school and come straight home afterwards. Dean, I will drive you to Karate." Her voice was uncharacteristically hard.

"What about football practice?" Markus asked.

"You and Patrick will walk to the bus stop together, catch the bus to our suburb and either your father or I will pick you both up and drop Patrick home from there. We've already discussed this with his parents." Markus and Dean traded looks. They knew there was no point in arguing.

"For how long?" Dean grumbled. Her head drooped a little.

"As long as needed." She said.

They finished the rest of their dinner in awkward silence. Markus wanted to ask his mother more but he knew he wouldn't get anything more from her. At least, not tonight. His dad came home late. His blonde hair was stuck up in all directions and he looked exhausted. He gave his sons a quick hug each before practically inhaling the food that put in front of him. Dean grinned as their father barely chewed anything on his plate, just gulped the chicken whole.

“Like a pelican.” Dean hissed in Markus’s ear and Markus fought down a loud snort of laughter. His mother sat down, shooting both of her sons a sharp look before she and her husband began talking in hushed voices.

"Good night." Markus said. He had showered and packed away his books for the night, the chemistry homework abandoned. Dean went to his own room to play on the computer. He left his parents to talk and went upstairs to his room. To his surprise his phone was ringing on his bed. He had plugged it in to charge before going down to dinner. It was Patrick's ringtone. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten thirty. Frowning, he picked it up.

"Markus! Markus, fuck I'm so sorry." Markus's whole body froze. Patrick was sobbing.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" His voice shook only a little.

"I didn't mean too, they made me! I told them about you Markus. You have to get out of the house, you and Dean. Fuck, I'm so sorry. There're dead Markus. There're dead. They said they wouldn’t let them be killed if I told them but they let it happen anyway." His voice was thick with sobs. He was barely recognisable. Markus's heart was thundering in his chest, his fingers white as he gripped the phone.

"Whose dead? Where are you?" He nearly shouted into the phone. Fear like nothing he had ever felt was running through his veins and not just for himself, but for Patrick too.

"My house." Markus was moving before he had really thought about it. He put on his shoes, threw on a jacket and opened his bedroom window.

"I'm coming. Stay there!" He hissed. Patrick lived a block away. If he sprinted he could make it there quickly. Patrick sounded as though he was about to say something but then the line went dead.

"Shit!" Markus snarled. Shoving the phone into his back pocket he jumped out of the window. He wasn't old enough to fly yet but he could slow the decent of his fall. He still landed heavily in the wet grass, ungraceful. He straightened and took off.

His shoes slapped the pavement. The cold night hair pulled at his hair and nipped at his exposed ears. Patrick had always there for him since they were five years old and closest friend he had ever had. He had brought him homework and comic books when he was sick. He had watched the Harry Potter movies with him. Perhaps it would have been smarter to tell his parents.

Fuck, it probably would have been smart to call the police but Markus was sixteen, young and a little stupid with panic. He saw the blinking red and blue lights from a distance. He skidded to a halt in front of Patrick's house, his chest heaving. There was already a several police cars out the front. Police tape flapped in the breeze. The heavy front door of the white house had been kicked in. The front window was smashed and across the driveway, unmistakable even in the dark light was a thick smear of blood.

There was so much of it, as though someone had opened a four litre can of paint and thrown it down the driveway. Except it was deep thick red.

Bile slicked the back of his throat. Several neighbours had come out of their houses and were looking on. Markus went to get closer. He never even got to the barrier of tape when a noise ripping through the night.

It was an explosion, loud enough to shake the street and set off several car alarms. Everyone turned to watch the inferno rise up into the sky from a house several streets away. 

Markus's house.

He was running again. There was screaming. He wasn't sure if he was hearing the screaming or if it was him that was making the sound. There were sirens, figures, people he knew and people he didn't. There was thick smoke in the air. It tasted foul and burned his eyes but he ran forward anyway. He stood on the corner of his street. From this distance he could feel the heat of the flames. They were almost too bright to look at. His house was burning, the flames lashing out with unnatural height and heat. Both houses next door was catching alight. 

His house.

His family.

Dean had been in bed on the top floor.

He stared into the inferno and for just a moment he thought he saw... something. His body was frozen with fear. Not of the flames, he could never be afraid of the flames. Something was moving in the doorway of the house in a way that nothing should ever move.

Black and boneless. Markus blinked and the slinking thing was gone.

"Dean!" Markus dove forward. An arm caught him tight around the middle. Markus's legs kicked out uselessly as he was thrown backwards. He hit the ground hard and when he opened his eyes he was staring up into black irises.

"Now you are exactly what we are looking for. Let us go young Markus." The voice was rich and heavily tinted with a British accent. His head swirled. Shock, pain and fear robbed him of any voice. The creature leant down towards him.

The black irises grew until they were all Markus could see, all he could process. He slumped back against the wet grass, unconscious. He didn't stir as he was picked up. He never heard his neighbours screaming his name and the names of his family. He never saw the house he grew up in crumble as the fire consumed it, inside and out. 

\--

END

\--


	2. To Adapt

\--

Chapter Two  
To Adapt

–

It was dark when Markus woke up. He was so disorientated that it took him several long minutes to understand that he wasn't in his own bed. The mattress was too hard, the blanket smelt strange and sterile. Why was it so dark? Where was he? Had he fallen asleep in Dean's room? Why would he do that?

Flashes echoed through his mind.

Fear, fire.

Oh gods, the fire.

"Mum! Dad!" Markus sat bolt upright, the blankets falling to his waist. The room was small. In the dark he could make out his own mattress, white and high like a hospital bed. There was also a side table to his right and a plan desk in the far corner with a white wooden chair. There were no windows and two doors. One door was open to reveal a small toilet and tiny sink. The second was closed.

Was Markus in the hospital maybe? He sniffed. His clothes and hair reeked of smoke. His skin felt dry, his throat was sore and even in the dark, his eyes stung a little.

Suddenly a bright light flickered on, completely blinding him.

“Good to see you are awake young Markus.” The door swung open. It sounded heavy and distinctly metal as it ground against its hinges. Markus blinked rapidly at the tall figure blocking the door way. When his eyes finally adjusted he frowned.

The man looked to be in thirties. He was wearing a smartly fitted charcoal grey striped suit complete with silk black patterned tie and shiny round silver cufflinks. His shoes were high polished black leather and looked the kind of expensive you only see in movies. The man’s facial feature unnerved Markus. His eyes were black for one.

Not dark, black, both iris and pupil. Markus scooted back in the bed, away from the man. The man’s aura was like inky tendrils, liquid and free flowing. He had only ever seen this kind of super nat once before and that had been on television.

This man was a vampire.

When a human is changed, so to is their DNA drastically changed. Any other supernatural creature could not be changed into a vampire. They would just die. Vampires were not affected by garlic, holy artifacts of any kind, salt water or stakes. They could be killed much the same way almost anything could. Decapitation, removal of the heart or being set of fire. That much Markus knew from his schooling. He had remembered treating that class like a bit of joke. He really wished now that he had paid a little more attention.

“Who are you?” Markus asked. He hands were sweaty as he gripped the blankets. The man’s skin was pale and strangely textured like the paper bark trees Markus saw in the park. His face didn’t glisten the way a human would, as though he had never produced any sweat.

Or couldn’t.

He didn’t even stand like a human. His posture was to perfect, his back rigidly straight, fingers clasped. In the light Markus could see thick blue veins on the man’s hands and wrists.

“We will get to that. But first, are you hungry?” The thick British lilt stirred something in his memory. Markus didn’t know how to react. Hysteria was pretty damn close to the surface right now.

“I watched my house burning with my family quite possibly still in it and you kidnapped me. Do you think I care about food right now!?” Markus’s voice cracked. The creepy man smiled serenely and Markus could swear he felt beetles crawling up his arms. He shuddered.

“I understand that you must be upset right now. I will answer all your questions once I am sure you are calm enough to process the information.” Alright. That made sense in a really weird sort of way…

“How about some soup and a mug of hot chocolate?” The man said. Markus just nodded woodenly. The vampire smiled a little wider and walked over to the door. He rapt his knuckles smartly against it and it opened. Markus leaned over to try and see out but the corridor beyond wasn’t very well lit. A tray was passed through the gap and the door shut tight again with a click.

The vampire walked back over, pulling the desk chair with him and sat down. He passed the tray to Markus who took it mechanically. The sat looking at each other.

“Eat.” The vampire waved. Markus scooped up a spoonful of soup and shoved it into his mouth, nearly missing. Then he waited. The man sighed.

“Eat whilst I talk.” He said. Markus took a slow sip of the hot chocolate and started to eat. Once he had started it was easy to keep going. In his panic he hadn’t realized just how hungry he had been.

“My name is Alois. Do you know what I am?” The man named Alois asked.

“You’re a vampire.” Markus replied nervously. The vampire nodded.

“And you are…?” The vampire purred. Markus nearly choked on his soup. His eye bugged out a little.

He hadn’t considered that the man might not know what kind of super nat he was but it wasn’t that strange when he thought about it. Kids and teenagers all expressed similar traits. Only after puberty did many super nats fully mature. There were some exceptions of course, but for the most part, Markus would look like any other teenager with the exception of his odd aura. This also possible meant something else…

“You didn’t burn down my house.” The vampire looked delighted. His smiled certainly got wider.

“My, smarter then the average boy aren’t you. What makes you think that?”

“You would know what kind of super nat I was if you attacked my family.”

“Yes. And no. My people did not attack your house, we have been following the group that did.” Markus leant forward over his empty soup bowl.

“You followed them? Who were they? Why are they taking people? Did… did my family get out?” He asked rapidly. The vampire took the tray from him and placed it on the bedside table.

“I am afraid not. From what we can tell they entered the property. Three agents went in. Four shots were fired. Three agents came out. The house was alight seconds later.” Markus felt cold.

“Why?” He whispered. Was this a government thing? His parents had never done anything dishonest in their lives. His mother was a primary school teacher!

“I understand this is a shock to you but I must assure you that my removing you from the situation was the best course of action for your safety.” Markus was staring off into space. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream.

“We can get you settled into our clan. Once we know what you are we can train you to use your powers correctly and-”

“No.” Markus interrupted.

“Pardon?” The vampire said.

“I don’t trust you.” Markus hissed. The vampire smile turned feral. The hint of sharp teeth peaked out from his pale lips.

“That’s good. That’s very good. I need you to be useful Markus. Your only worth having if your useful. It took a lot of resources to collect you from that shithole city and I intend to exploit what I can.” Alois purred, the British lilt in his voice thickening. Markus growled, hands closing into fists.

“I am not going to do anything for you.” Markus snarled.

“Oh, but you will Markus because the alternative won’t be pleasant. I had your little friend make that call to get you out of the house. Would you like to know what my people did with him?” Markus didn’t get to say anything. Alois reached into his breast pocket and took out something. It was Patrick’s phone and it was smeared with blood.

“You bastard!” Markus lunged from the bed. He didn’t remember the strike to neck nor did he feel the concrete floor when his body crumpled. He just… crumpled.

\--

The next few days dragged by. At least, Markus thought it was days. Hell, maybe it was hours. He wished he had some way of telling the time. All the meals were exactly the same. An apple, a boiled potato, a boiled chicken breast and a raw carrot. There wasn’t even salt as seasoning. Every meal. He had eaten six meals so far… maybe. Twice a day someone came in to get him. The lights blinded him, a bag was thrown over his head and Markus were dragged through several winding corridors into one of two rooms. One room had some basic gym equipment. The other had several text books.

He was expected to work out or study. If he did anything other then those two things, his ‘keeper’ for the day would smack him around until he did. He had one dark bruise on his cheek, several on his ribs and many on the backs of his hands. They never spoke to him and they never allowed him to speak to them.

The only person Markus could speak to was Alois who would come to visit him and ask him questions. So far, Markus had refused to tell him anything. Some might think this was a little stupid but he still had no idea what the vampire elder actually wanted from him. Many super natural species didn’t get along to put it mildly. What if he told Alois what he was and the vampire decided it would be safer to just kill him?

By the end of the week Markus felt like he was going to crack. The day before he had lost his tempter and thrown a text book at the guard with him. The man had grabbed Markus by the hair and gut punched him. He tried to fight back but he was so much younger and smaller then the guards who, he was quite sure, were also vampire though not nearly as old and powerful as Alois. That night his blanket had been confiscated and he lay on the mattress struggling not to cry. He missed his family so badly. He missed Patrick. He missed his bedroom. He missed sunlight.

Distantly he heard the door open. Markus didn’t uncurl. He was shivering almost violently now. His kind needed heat.

“Roger tells me you attacked him yesterday.” Alois sounded amused. Markus said nothing. His teeth were clenched together so tightly he thought they might crack.

“None of this had to be so difficult.” The vampire said cajolingly. Markus couldn’t feel his fingers. Was that bad? That seemed like something that should be bad.

“Markus?” The vampire coaxed. A hand touched his cheek. He flinched in pain.

“You’re cold.” Alois murmured and Markus could swear the man sounded surprised. Of course, he was fucking cold! He was wearing a tee shirt and shorts and had no blanket! He felt himself being turned over.

“Your lips are blue.” There was definitely shock in the deep voice now. Were they? Alois stood up abruptly and left the room. That was quicker then usual. Normally he tried to ask a few more questions then that. His stomach rumbled. He was always hungry now. To his surprise the door opened again and Alois stepped back through. He was talking with one of the guards, his voice sharp and angry though Markus didn’t know the language. He thought it sound Polish.

He felt the bed dip as the vampire sat down next to him.

“Let’s try this again. Something nice and simple. How old were you when you learnt of your kind?” Markus knew what he meant. Some supernatural families tried to keep their kids in the dark, let them think they were normal humans. They even sent them to ordinary public school until their abilities became to apparent. It took a lot of effort to unclench his jaw.

“Five.” Markus croaked. His voice sounded hoarse. He jumped a little as long fingers slid into his hair.

“You were young then.” Alois said.

“Yes.” He whispered. Markus gasped when something heavy and warm was thrown over him. It was an electric throw blanket. It was like being surrounded by perfect liquid heat. He seemed to only just realize just how cold he really was. His body began to shiver more violently and he pulled the blanket closer.

“I must apologies. I am disappointed that your guardians did not notice your temperature though it is very interesting that you are so sensitive to the warmth...” Markus would have laughed if he could get his voice to work. Guardians. He knew what a guardian was. He had seen it written on teacher parent forms. These people were not his guardians.

“Do you have any other family around?” Alois asked. Markus thought about lying but there really wasn’t much point.

“No.” He whispered.

“You miss them.” It wasn’t a question. Markus swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.” Markus couldn’t tell if this sentence was sincere nor could he bring himself to take any value from it. This man had been responsible for the death of his best friend death. 

“Are you hungry?” Alois got up to go to the door once more. Again, it opened and he retrieved something from the guard outside. The strong but awesome smell of beef casserole wafted into the room. The scent of the hot meal was intoxicating. His mouth filled with saliva. Markus struggled to sit up, his muscles and joints stiff.

“Yes.” Markus eyed the bowl as the vampire brought it over to him. He frowned as Alois handed it to him, looking at it suspiciously.

“It’s not dosed. Enjoy. You answered my questions today.” Markus’s frown deepened. It wasn’t rocket science. Answer questions, be the good student, get rewarded. Refuse to answer questions, fight back against the guard, get punished.

At this point he didn’t care if the casserole was drugged. He was just so relieved to have something different to eat. He barely stopped to chew the meat as he shovelled it down. When he was done Alois took the bowl and left him with the electric blanket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” The vampire promised before shutting the heavy door. Markus laid back down, warm and full for the first time in days. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

\--

The text books he was expected to study were disgustingly boring. As the guards refused to speak to him there really wasn’t any set way for him to study. Sometimes there would be a questionnaire on the desk waiting for him beside a book. The texts ranged from history both human and supernatural to math, science, English and Latin. Some of the books looked old, especially the one on supernatural histories. These books were at least mildly interesting but the text was so dense, the writing so small and the words so overly descriptive that any more then an hour was enough to give him a headache.

Markus had hoped that by playing the good student he could gain enough trust with these vampires to have relax on his security. So far that wasn’t working but at least he was getting fed better food and able to have hot showers. Alois still visited him daily. He asked Markus all kind of questions. He had even asked him what his favourite movie was or what he did in the summer. He knew the man was manipulating him.

Markus wasn’t fucking stupid. He knew what Stockholm Syndrome was but the fact was that he was now completely alone in the world and the only creature showing him any sort of kindness at all was Alois. Unwillingly, he found that he looked forward to Alois’s visits if only for the company. Sometime Alois brought a chess set or a pack of cards. If he managed to win a game of chess (which didn’t happen often), Alois would give him a piece of homemade fudge or chocolate. Other times he would just sit by Markus, touching his hand, arm or hair. Markus wanted to pretend that he was just as determined to escape but his spirits were low. He just didn’t know how. Every minute of his day was heavily regimented. He often wondered if anyone on the outside missed him, if they knew he was dead or if he had already been forgotten.

“There’s no need to look so sad Markus. I’m going to look after you. I’ll make sure your safe.” The vampire purred, petting his hair as he so often did. Markus shivered but didn’t pull away.

“I don’t feel safe in this place. I feel like a prisoner of war.” He said in response. The vampire cocked his head to one side.

“What an odd choice of words.”

“Why?” Markus looked up at him. The vampire smirked.

“Always so inquisitive. Perhaps I will tell you. But not today. Today you need to get some rest.”

Markus didn’t bother trying to argue. It never helped. He slept under his electric blanket, warm and comfortable.

For his ‘class’ the next day Markus pulled his text book closer. The pages were tinted dark with age. To his surprise it was an index of supernatural creatures. Markus paused, hesitating. His first instinct was to look up his own kind. He only knew the small scraps of what his parents had taught him. Of course, everything he did was monitored. With some reluctance he turned the first page and tried to read in order.

That morning Alois had personally brought him some bacon and scrambled eggs. The vampire had smiled at Markus’s eager grin. Markus’s hair was getting quite long. That alone was a rather morbid reminder that he had been at this compound for a least a month, probably longer. He had asked Alois many times:

“When will you let me go outside? When are you going to let me go?” The vampire would just smile and say;

“What did you learn from your studies today?” The one tiny development was the few times he had overheard the other vampire talking. It had been little snippets really. The vampire called Roger had said to a severe looking woman that Markus had apparently become the master’s new ‘pet project.’ Another time, he heard two men grumblings about how they were wasting time here when they should be tracking down those responsible for attacking their clan. Markus was sure now that he wasn’t the only other prisoner in the facility but he had yet to actually see anyone else.

Markus leant over his text book with a sigh. He wouldn’t be able to hide his own identity much longer. As he got older, his powers would come on full force. If he couldn’t control them or he started to have physical changes that it would be pretty damn obvious what species he was. Maybe he could work out some sort of a deal? Alois was many things but the vampire did seem to be a least reasonable…

A loud noise drew his attention to the door. It had sounded like someone had thrown a chair against the wall. There was silence for a few moments then the sound of running footsteps. Markus rose slowly from his chair. The vampire guard hissed at him in warning but quickly looked away when the noise of many shouting voices came from the outside corridors. The guard hesitated for a moment. Markus watched in amazement as the man’s face lengthened, sharp teeth filling his mouth and his hair line receding. His finger grew into long sharp claws. This was a proper vampire on the hunt. The door opened the vampire flew from the room with speed that made Markus’s hair fly back.

Markus edged towards the door nervously. Out in the corridor there was the sound of hissing vampires, yowling and screeching. There was also a metallic twang, like the noise a blade would make. To his own horror there was also something distinctly wet, like heavy blood splatter. The fight seemed to be getting closer. Markus dredged up some metal, took a breath and slipped into the corridor.

It was dark.

The lighting was very bad but even so, he could see movement down the end of the passageway. He wasn’t sure if he should run and risk being seem or slip away quietly and hope no one noticed him. He began to edge away, walking on his toes. He had absolutely no idea what it was that was killing the vampires and he really didn’t want to find out. A loud wailing shriek followed Markus around one corner. The hair on his arms stood on end as the wail was cut short with a thick wet gurgle. Something hit the floor with a hard thud. Like a head.

Up ahead Markus still couldn’t really see where he was going. His heart was hammering so hard he was sure anything and everything could hear it. He was terrified. A vampire flew out a doorway in front of him. Markus recognised Roger, even with his distorted mouth full of sharp teeth and ripped bloody jacket.

“You!” The vampire roared, but not at Markus. He was looking somewhere over Markus’s shoulder. Markus felt rather then saw the movement from behind him. Acting purely on instinct, he dove to the right and something solid brushed passed him. The vampire and the creature clashes, metal and claw catching the weak light. Markus rolled to his feet, shacking. He had just enough time to see the blade plunge into Roger’s throat before he ran.

He tripped and slid in the dark, the concrete floor slick with pools of thick partway congealed blood. He fell right to his knees, his hand wet with the cold blood smeared on the floor. He grabbed for doorhandles, rattling them desperately. He found a flight of stairs and ran up them, taking two at a time. The sounds of running footsteps echoed but he was almost sure they weren’t just his own anymore. He rounded another corner and slammed into a figure.

For one moment he thought it might have been Alois. He almost wished it was. He was mistaken though. This person was far broader in the shoulders. His aura was burning bright.

The man was beautiful but in such an unearthly way. He was perfect like a renaissance painting, like something that could only be imagined. Under soft platinum blonde hair Markus glimpsed a delicately pointed ear. The scent of the man was earthy, wet moss, fresh rain, pine, cut grass and snow water.

“Take a step back kid.” A voice growled. Markus spun to see the same figure that had killed Rogers. It to was a man with pointed ears.

“Alois has escaped sire.” The man said, bowing his head to the platinumed haired figure.

“Please, who are you? What is going on!?” Markus’s voice was high with fear. The man completely ignored him, brushing him aside and went back to talking fast in another language to the people beside him. The dark-haired man who had attacked Rogers had apparently not been completely unscathed as he had a long bloody gash down one arm.

“Bring the boy. The others didn’t survive.” Said the leader. Markus spluttered as he was grabbed and dragged quickly along behind them. He could barely keep his feet with their long stride. They went up two more flights of steps, completely ignoring Markus’s questions as they pushed through a fire exit door and out into the night air. The night air was an icy sharp shock to Markus’s senses. He blinked rapidly. They had come out in an ally way of sorts. In the distance he could hear traffic. The man with the bloody arm grabbed a water proof backpack from the ground and shoved it hard into Markus’s mid-section, knocking the wind out of him.

“Listen kid and listen good because I’m only going through this with you once. That backpack is your new life. In it is a new passport and birth certificate, $5000 and some supplies. Your parent’s inheritance for you has already been moved across to your new name but you won’t be able to touch in until your eighteen, assuming you live that long. Firstly you will need to get yourself as far away from here as possible.” Markus’s jaw was hanging open.

“What?”

“Shut up, I’m not done. If there is any brain in that thick head of yours you will stay out of sight and keep moving. Stay off social media, change your appearance and use the money fucking carefully. $5000 sounds like a lot but it isn’t. One night in a shitty motel could cost you a hundred bucks. You do that every night and that’s barely two months, you get me? That’s not including food and travel.” Markus was shacking like a wet dog. His eyes were wide and his knuckles were white on the straps of his new bag.

“I can’t do this.” Please, at least tell me who you people are!” Markus whispered. There was a hard lump in his throat. The man looked utterly unimpressed.

“Then stay here and let yourself be taken. This is the only life line you are ever going to get. The king doesn’t like having his time wasted and neither to I.” The man sneered. King? Markus glanced at the tall regale figure with his platinum hair and enormous gold aura. What a word from one of the textbooks he had read popped into his mind.

Fae. This man was a fae.

“He’s a king? Why can’t I go with you?” Markus begged. The man snorted.

“Hardly. We aren’t baby sitters kid. You survive into adulthood and we’ll come back to call in the favour but until then I suggest you start running.” The man turned on his heel. The king glanced once in Markus’s direction and then he too turned and started to head back down the ally. Markus tried to scramble after them but it seemed like they became more insubstantial until it was like they were never there at all and Markus was left standing completely alone in the dark ally, covered in blood and crying.

\--

END

\--


	3. To Hide

\--

Chapter Three  
To Hide

\--

It took a long time for Markus to move. He was hyperventilating. His cheeks were wet, his fingers burning with cold and sticky with blood. His clothes were damp and tacky. It wasn’t until he started to hear noises of sirens and something… slithering in the ally that he took off running. The pack was heavy and he was already very tired. He also didn’t have the faintest clue where he was going.

Hell, he didn’t even technically know what city he was in. It’s not like Alois had ever told Markus where he had taken him too. Markus saw a public park and crossed the smooth road. The sun was coming up and he knew he needed to find a public toilet and clean up the blood before someone had him arrested.

He half wondered if being arrested would be so bad. He had no idea what he could tell the police but they were supposed to protect and serve. Weren’t they? Thankfully he found a pubic toilet. There was a sperate unisex disabled bathroom with a lock. He hurried in and locked the door. The room stank just like a public toilet would. Admittedly it could have been a lot worse. He slid down onto the damp floor, still trembling, still not quite able to catch his breath. He dragged the backpack close and after fumbling with the zipper for a minute, managed to open the bag.

Inside were several sets of simple clothes, socks and underwear included. There was a water bottle with a filter, a tightly rolled sleeping bag, a small dark blue towel, a torch, a notebook and a toiletries bag. Inside this was a comb, body wash, deodorant, toothbrush and paste as well as a roll of spare toilet paper. With fumbling fingers Markus opened the hardcover notebook. Inside was a passport and birth certificate.

Eric Peterson.

He stared at the passport. They had used the headshot from his last school photo. It had been touched up a little. He looked older but not by much. The birthday was different too. According to his new passport, Markus had been born on April the 12th instead of October the 3rd. He didn’t look at the foreign names in the places were his parents were supposed to be.

“This is really happening.” Markus whispered. His voice echoed dismally in the toilet. Stiffly he stripped, his body instantly becoming covered in goose flesh from the cold temperature. His shoes were thankfully blood free. He cleaned himself as best he could. The public toilet had hand soap so he used that instead of the body wash. He didn’t want to waste it. He washed his hair roughly in the sink and dried himself with the dryer. The new clothes were a little baggy on him but they were dry and clean so he really didn’t care. He ran the comb through his hair, put on some deodorant and cleaned up the toilet, flushing the bloodied toilet paper.

He dug further into the bag until he found several thick rolls of bills. He remembered his mum telling him once to always split up his money when they went travelling. That way if he lost wallet, he would always have a little money somewhere else to fall back on. He pulled the notes apart carefully. He stashed some in a pair of socks, some in the notebook and some on his person. As he picked up the notebook he noticed there was something written on the front page. Frowning, he held it up to the light.

Emily Browne – NT, tier 3, witch

William Smith – QL, tier 4, warlock

João Vítor – NT, tier 3, werewolf

The list went on in small looping letters. It was a list of other supernatural people. People that Markus might be able to go to if he was brave enough. Were they others like him? Did they still have families? Feeling numb Markus packed everything back into the bag. When it was light enough he went into a small barber shop and left with short black hair. He found a bus station, bought several tickets and only used one. As he sat on the bus, the exhaustion of everything finally crashed down on him. It was a four-hour ride to the next stop and Markus, now Erin Peterson, pulled out his sleeping bag and used it as a pillow. It wasn’t long before he was asleep under the gentle rocking of the bus’s movements.

\--

In the years to come Eric would never be able to say quite how he survived those first few weeks on his own. They had seemed to go by in some sought of fantastic nightmare. He had tried to keep moving. He had slept on the side of roads, under bridges and spent a couple of nights in various youth centres. Several times only his own senses prevented him from meeting people that would probably want to do more then shake hands. The only small blessing he had was that the weather had been forgiving and there were no storms on the few nights he had slept outside

Every day had been spent hungry and afraid, jumping at shadows. Every person he passed had the potential to be a literal monster wearing a human skin. Strangely the part that he hated the most was not the sleepless cold nights or the strange looks he got.

He hated the lies he had to tell.

Whenever he came to a youth centre or got asked why he was travelling alone he had to tell a story. He had to make up some bullshit about how his step dad beat him up and his mother wouldn’t do anything about. He had to pretend he was an abuse victim of a family that didn’t love him. The truth was too insane to tell. His parents weren’t abusive, his little brother had not been troubled and it made him sick to the stomach to pretend otherwise.

He changed his story to a student travelling to visit sick family. It made him feel less dirty. It didn’t stop him from missing them though. Every day he missed them. The ache left behind was like a festering wound. So far, he had only managed to find one name on the list, Emily Browne. Apparently, he wasn’t the first kid to find her. When he had knocked shakily on her battered front door with its peeling white paint he didn’t know what to expect.

Emily Browne had been a plain looking woman, young perhaps but her face had since been heavily aged with lines either by trauma or a string of bad luck. Her long hair was swept back in a tight pony tail and the apron she wore was covered in old sauce and soup stains.

“Another one then. Well come in.” She had grumbled. She had washed all his clothes, let him use the shower and set him up on the couch with a cheese and ham sandwich.

“How many times have you done this?” He had asked, a little taken aback. She had sighed heavily then, her face looking even older.

“To many times. It used to just be every now and again but in the last three years more than twelve kids have come through my door. I suppose the fae gave you my name.” Eric nodded weakly.

“Who… what do you do?” Eric rasped. She gave him a tight smile and nudged the sandwich a little closer. He was hungry but his mouth was so dry it took several tries to chew and swallow the first bite.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have many answers for you. That’s probably not what you want to hear. I can tell you that the others were much the same as you, targeted and hunted by gods know what. Families generally dead or overseas. I owed the fae a favour and they called it in, enlisting me to help in this bat shit crazy war. Never trust a fucking fae. They hold grudges worse than some demons. I help as much as I can, patch up the bad ones. I can try and help you find a job, get you settled short term somewhere?” She offered. Eric took a sip of his tea.

“Did any of the other kids see anything? Do you still hear from them?” He asked hopefully. She went very still. Her lips were thin and her eyes darkened a little.

“I hear from a couple of them from time to time. To be honest quite a few dropped completely off the grid. I like to think it’s because they found somewhere far away and safe but…” Her voice faded away. Eric stared into his tea cup.

“Most of the kids were scared but hadn’t actually been taken yet. There was one though, a little boy named Benny. He was in bad shape when he darkened my door. His family had been shot and he was badly cut up trying to escape. Never seen anything like it. The wounds were black, blood, muscle and bone. His internal organs started shutting down. It didn’t matter what spell I used, he was dead a week later. He didn’t talk much but I still remember what he said attacked him though, it made no sense to me.” Emily was staring into space as though still seeing the dying boy in her house. Eric shifted closer.

“What was it?”

“Reapers. He said he was attacked by the grim reaper himself.”

Emily hadn’t told him much after that. Once Eric picked out a new town to head to and she had helped him get a job in a coffee house there. He stayed with her for nearly two weeks before getting on another bus. She hadn’t wanted to see him off. She had seen off too many kids that had never come back to anyone or anywhere.

“Don’t expect I’ll be able to do this much longer.” She had said, her face tired and sad. He had hugged her tightly and said goodbye.

His job at the café had been like a milestone for him. He had stayed in the town for nearly two months. He was able to get into a group house with some local college students. Eric had found it a small relief to have some semblance of normalcy. He continued to pretend he too was a student. He worked hard at the café and kept his head down. Hilariously, some of the classes at the college were so largely packed that Eric could sit in on the occasional lecture and no one would ever know. He had almost thought to stay when one night when he was walked back to the dorm he heard shattering glass.

He turned his head and his heart gave a sickening jolt in his chest when something in the street moved. Moved in a way that no natural born thing should ever do. That moment wrenched him right back to the front lawn of his own burning house where he has stared into the black doorway, contrasted with bright flame. Something black seemed to fall from a low thick tree branch. It dropped to the road in front of him and scuttered soundlessly sideways, like it had no bones. It rose to a towering full height of nearly seven feet, bright red eyes glowing from somewhere in its face.

Eric froze. He still had little control over his abilities. He wouldn’t for another year or two. He just wasn’t old enough.

He ran.

There was no sound of shoes on the pavement except his own but every now and again, a trash can would fall over or a low hanging branch would whip back violently. Local dogs barked wildly from their backyards and Eric dove for the busiest streets he knew. Even when he hit the main road with its bustling late-night shoppers and his lungs burned, Eric didn’t stop. That night he had quit his job, packed his things and left again.

He would never have been able to say for sure what that thing was but it had meant him death. Of that, he was sure.

That was how life went for what felt like the longest age. He went from city to city, working what ever jobs he could and running at the first glimpse of trouble. He was only ever able to find a few other people on the list. They, like Emily, weren’t able to tell him much either about the creatures who hunted him or the fae who had helped him. A few were able to teach him basic warding against certain creatures, simple magic that most people could cast. He bought another note book and practicing drawing the protection symbols again and again. Once he had filled up the book he would rip each page out and practice setting the pages on fire with only his own abilities. For the first few months he could only gets the pages to curl, then smoulder. He would get better with practice.

He would have, of course, had been better taught by his parents. Loneliness was a constant companion now, like some massive creature inevitably dragging him down and sapping his strength. He couldn’t seek out company though. Several times he had nearly been caught by others, one a vampire and the other a werewolf who had believed Eric had been trespassing. He wanted so badly to have someone to talk to. The list of names was almost like the only reason he kept moving some days, a lifeline cord that drew him forever onward.

But he was tired now.

Tired and miserable.

He had remembered to stay off any social media. It had been very hard though. He wanted to look up the house fire. He wanted to see if the world thought he was dead. He wanted to go on his Facebook pages and see some familiar faces. His family’s photos would be on Facebook. They would be the only pictures left now that the house had burnt to the ground.

Eric was sitting in a small café late on one Thursday afternoon. He had finished his shift at a burger place and was given his pay. Tired of instant noodles and canned soup he decided to treat himself to some real food. It wasn’t until he glanced up at the television mounted on the café’s wall that his stomach did a little flip. It had been his birthday two days ago. He hadn’t even noticed. The waitress hurried over to him and smiled.

“Ready to order hun?” Eric tried to force a smile that damn near crippled him. In that small moment he thought of the vampire master Alois. What would have happened if he had stayed at the compound? He would probably be a mindless blood slave by now.

Maybe.

Maybe Alois had never even gone back after the fae had killed the other vampires. He remembered those long nights though. The nights he was wrapped in Alois’s arms, the man whispering words of affection and comfort. He remembered the warm electric throw blanket the vamp had brought him, the meals he fed him and the odd company he gave him.

Eric swallowed, realizing that he had been silent for too long.

“The summer sunset beef burger please, with an earl grey tea.” He said. The waitress, a woman in her forties with a touch of grey to her hair, gave him a wide smile and nodded.

“Sure thing love. It’ll be right out.” Her smile was genuine and showed a hint of concern. He knew what he looked like. He was rake thin, exhausted and barely sentient. His clothes were clean, he made sure the keep up appearances as best he could, but he was working double, sometimes triple shifts. Running away was an expensive affair and the few seconds of sleep he could grab were troubled with nightmares. Every squeak in the corridor outside his dorm room made he sit up. Every loud shuffle in the street made him think he was being followed. He was living pay check to pay check, unable to save anything or afford anything decent.

He wanted all of it to stop. Eric sat quietly in silence, watching the news half heartedly as he waited for his food. When the burger arrived, his mouth flooded with saliva. The waitress has added a serving of sweet potatoes fries free of charge. He nearly cried when she told him. The soft, gentle smile on her face told him she understood.

“Everyone has those hard weeks.” She had said, patting him on the shoulder. As soon as she was gone Eric had barely been able to eat the food at a sensible pace. He was so hungry. As he ate he became a little more aware of the people around him. Most were late afternoon shoppers, stopping in for an easy meal. He piked up a few flickering auras, mostly human though one witch walked in, fairly lowered powered and not interested in Eric in the slightest. He licked a dollop of mayo off his fingers. 

He was getting rather good at reading people as it was a survival skill he practices extensively every day. Working behind a counter meant that there was a risk that any given customer could be a super natural creature but they were so few in number that thankfully, it hadn’t really become an issue.

Just then Eric felt a small prickle of heat on the back of his neck. Slowly, he put down his burger and picked up his cup of tea. He tried to causally look about him.

He nearly spilled the tea down his front.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

There, dressed in a smart looking, tailored black suit was the vampire Alois. He hadn’t noticed Eric. He was standing outside the café, on the other side of the glass. There were three other men with him. He was talking though what he said was impossible to hear.

Eric put down his cup. What should he do?

Where they here for him?

Did they know he was here?

Should he run?

Hide in the bathroom?

No.

If they didn’t know he was here then standing at all would make that obvious. He was sure he looked quite different from when the vampire had first met him but his scent would still be recognisable. Eric picked up his burger and tried to go back to eating as though nothing at all was wrong but his hands shook slightly and cheese fell out of the bun. If the vampire came inside the café, if he got a good look at Eric he was sure to recognise him, even with the black hair and baggy clothes. Thankfully the vampire didn’t seem interested in the café. He was talking, face set firm. The group of four continued to walk by. Eric let out a slow breath and then very nearly chocked.

Alois had stopped walking.

The vampire turned, imperceptibly slow. Eric hastily picked up the menu that was sitting on the table next to him. He pretended to read the desert page, obscuring his face a little. His cup of tea balanced casually in his other hand. He took a measured sip. Gods, his heart was racing so fast he thought Alois would hear it for sure.

A moment passed.

Then another. Finally, the vampire seemed to lose interest and strolled down the street, his companies close by. It was only after several thudding minutes that Eric understood that for any noise he might have made, the bustle of at forty conversations, the frying and sizzling from the kitchen, the clinking and clacking of cutlery and cups and the scrapping of chairs was more than enough.

Eric stayed in that café for a long time. He had long since finished his meal and had ordered another pot of tea. He wasn’t sure if he could walk outside without being abducted. The longer he sat, the angrier he became. How long was he going to have to do this? He pulled this list from his back pocket. He had crossed out almost all of the names now. A small few had refused to help, slamming the door in his face. Some had moved away no one could give him a forwarding address. Others he had crossed out because he had discovered they had passed away. He wanted to be comfortable in the knowledge that they had died of natural causes but the words ‘house fire’ had come up so often that Eric seriously doubted that any of them had died of natural causes.

Well. Except for an old warlock name John Stevenson. The man had been in his eighties and died of a heart attack. So, there was that.

Eric looked down at the list, his jaw set. There, in that café, he decided. Once he was eighteen he could access the money left to him from his parents. He could make it. Would make it.

He was going to get on a plane and leave this city. Where ever he landed he was going to start again. No more running. He was going to learn to use his abilities no matter what it took.

It was about time that he made himself the hunter instead of the hunted.

\--

END

\--


	4. To New Beginnings

\--

Chapter Four  
To New Beginnings

\--

Katie Stevens had not been happy when she had been told the news. Not many of the staff were. Or the few residents for that matter. Sunseeker Cove was a successful collection of beach side apartments. They had a four- and half-star rating since the day they opened to the public over six years ago. The complex manager was a friendly but sensible man in his forties named Peter. The apartments were rented out to the public and bustled with life during the spring and summer months.

Sunseeker Cove boasted a solar heated pool, small gym, complementary continental breakfast, a restaurant and a bar. Most of the apartments also had a gorgeous view of the ocean and the closest beach was barely a ten-minute walk away. There were several small takeaway shops close by and a park across the road. Most of the apartments were rentals but occasionally they were bought by couples who were looking for a nice small apartment to retire to or as an investment property. The town was small and quiet outside the tourist season and the locals were friendly.

That was why it had been particularly strange when Peter had called all his workers together for a morning meeting to inform them that the most expensive apartment on the third floor had been sold. There were only four third story apartments. They were the most expensive because they all came with a spa bath, kitchen and walk in wardrobe as well as the best views of the ocean. They also had two full bedrooms where as all the other apartments only had a main bedroom and a small secondary bedroom with bunkbeds for families with children. The even smaller apartments on the ground floor only had one bedroom.

The news that it had been sold surprised the staff as it was. But what was more shocking was that instead of using it as a holiday home and renting it out through the complex (that’s what most of the other families did) the individual who bought the apartment wanted to move in full time!

Peter had hesitated then. He seemed to be searching for the words as he rocked a little in his chair, like someone who was cradling a large bombshell. When Katie had asked what kind of a person they were to expect Peter had visibly winced.

“He’s eighteen.” He said. All eight of them stared at their manager like he had sprouted an extra pair of limbs.

“He’s eighteen?!” Bec, one of the usual cooks and bartenders had spluttered.

“The Campbells aren’t going to like this.” Jack mumbled. The Campbells were an elderly retired couple in their seventies. They liked their peace and quiet. Katie wasn’t exactly pleased herself. Some of the most difficult and rude clients were generally drunk teenagers who came down in the summer holidays. The idea that some stuck-up rich city boy was going to move into the Cove’s most expensive apartment and live like a king up there made Katie shudder with disgust. What she couldn’t understand was…

“What were you thinking, Pete!?” Clair was also in her forties. She was the housekeeping supervisor and took no nonsense from anyone. She was blunt and didn’t even spare her boss from her sharp tongue. Peter flushed a little and held up his large hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Let me explain before you outright crucify me.” He said. Clair huffed and crossed her arms over her white blouse.

“I’ve met with the boy. His name is Eric and he isn’t moving here as some sort of fun vacation.” Peter started. Katie frowned. Clair raised a sharp eyebrow.

“The boy is recovering from a long fight with an illness. It is his doctor’s wishes that he spends sometime in a quiet place with plenty of clean air.” Peter said. Clair lost some of her scowl.

“Where are the boy’s parents?” She snapped.

“Traveling. Their work puts them on a plane almost every other day. Eric can’t travel with them so his family have purchased him the apartment here.” He explained calmly. Katie lost some of her outrage. Clair’s scowl was back but Katie knew why. The woman had three children and was close with each other them. Stern, but always loving. The idea that this boy’s parents just bought a place and ditched him was… wrong.

“He is a well-mannered, very soft-spoken and sensible young man. I don’t think he will be as big of a problem as you are making it out to be. All I ask is that you give him a chance. He will be arriving in two days. Please help him settle just like you would any of out guests.” The group all nodded mutely. Katie and Bec exchanged curious looks. They loved Peter like a father but they also knew that he could be a bit gullible and this story seemed a little too farfetched. Both girls were wondering exactly what this young man would really be like…

\--

Two days passed in a blur for Katie and she almost forgot about the newcomer. She was moving her little trolley full of clean towels when the sight a figure slinking up the stairs to the third floor made her pause. Only the residents were allowed up there. Frowning, she tucked her keys back into her pocket. Katie climbed the stairs, fully intending to bark at whoever it was that this was private property and they could very well bugger off. She stopped on the last step.

There was a boy standing at the last apartment door, large duffle bag and backpack beside him. It was then that she remembered that Peter had said the new guy would be arriving today. She opened her mouth to speak when the boy lowered the hood on his jacket.

She paused.

Instantly she was smacked with a rather hard pang of guilt because damn... The guy really did look like he was recovering from a potentially terminal illness.

He was painfully thin with hard dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been able to sleep in months. With the hood down, she could see just how baggy the clothes were on his skeletal frame. His skin was pale and blotchy and his hand shook as he tried to get his swipe card out.

“Did you need a hand?” She asked. The boy jumped violently, looking over at her with startled eyes. She gave him her best professional smile.

“My name is Katie. I’m one of the maids here. Did you need a hand with your things?” She asked gently. The boy, what was his name again? She was sure or almost sure it starting with an E.

“That’s very kind of you but I can manage. My name is Eric.” Well. He was well mannered. His voice was a little hoarse and his lips cracked as he spoke. Again, she felt that wave of guilt. He really did look sickly. She walked over to him and carefully extracted his card from his bundle of papers and swiped it through the reader for him. The door opened with a cheerful click.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, looking embarrassed. She smiled. 

“Not a problem. There is a phone inside on the kitchen wall. If you need anything just dial triple one and that will reach the front desk. Is there any other luggage? I could get Jack to grab it for you.” She said brightly. Eric lowered his head, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Urgh, no thank you. This is it really.” She glanced down at the old duffle bag and back pack. This was all he brought? Maybe he wasn’t staying for good. Feeling as though she had been judging unfairly, Katie winced.

“If you like I could bring you a map of the local area. There are some great little places to get dinner, plenty of good fishing around here if you like to fish.” She offered. He gave a weak smile.

“I would like that, thanks. I don’t really know this area. I’ve never been here before.” He said. She wanted to ask why his parents had picked here of all places but knew that would sound rude and prying. Instead she just gave him another large smile.

“It’s my pleasure. It was lovely to meet you. Let me know if you need anything else.” She said with a little wave. He nodded and carried his things inside the apartment.

It was almost a full week before Katie or anyone else caught sight of Eric Peterson. She supposed the trip here had worn him out because he didn’t emerge from the apartment once with the small exception of taking a delivery of groceries. It had become a bit of a game for the girls to try and sneak a peak at the new boy. True to Peter’s word, Eric did not seem the least bit interested in partying or causing a ruckus. It was almost as if the apartment wasn’t even occupied. The parking space that now belonged to Eric had a new looking black and silver Kawasaki Versys 1000 motorcycle. Katie recognised the model on account of her two older brothers having both been obsessive with their motorcycles growing up.

At the end of that first week, Katie was coming back from the laundry room early in the morning when she spotting Becky, peaking around the corner into the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” Katie asked with a laugh. Bec waved her over and put a finger to her lips, indicating silence. Frowning, Katie peaked around the corner. Peter and Eric were sitting at a table with cups of coffee. Eric still looked pale and drawn but his eyes looked more alive, like he had finally eaten a few good square meals he could keep down.

“It’s good of you to ask but the short answer is yes. It is your apartment, you are free to paint it if you like but should you ever move out you will need to cover the costs to get it repainted back to the standard colours.” Peter was explaining. Eric nodded, stirring some sugar into his coffee.

“That’s fine. I was just thinking of painting the master bedroom a soft blue or something. I can say I’ve had enough of white walls to last me a life time.” Eric murmured. Peter frowned sympathetically.

“Of course. You are free to change the furniture as well though if there is something in particular you would like to get rid of, please let me know and I will find it a new home.” The manager said. Eric nodded his head.

“I was thinking of using the second bedroom as an office but everything is great. I don’t want to get rid of anything except maybe the bed in that room.” Eric said thoughtfully. Peter smiled.

“That would work out well. I need to replace one of the mattresses on the second level. I could take that extra bed out of there if you would like to give yourself more room.” He offered. Eric nodded.

“That would be really helpful, thank you. I’m studying a couple of courses online right now and it would be good to have an office.” His face fell a bit.

“I’ll have to find a furniture place that delivers this way though.” He muttered, looking suddenly downcast. Peter grinned.

“Jack has a ute. I’m sure he would be happy to take you into the next town to pick up what you need.” Peter said. Eric looked appalled.

“I couldn’t ask that! That would be to much trouble, really.” Eric said hastily. Peter snorted.

“That’s not how it works around here. Chuck in for petrol money and he will be happy to take you. I’ll talk to him tonight.” Peter pulled out his chair to go, leaving Eric spluttered after him. Katie and Bec both ducked back into the corridor. They turned and both nearly ran smack into Clair. The supervisor cleared her throat haughtily, her hands on her plump hips.

“Clearly you ladies don’t have enough work to do if there is time for ears dropping!” She announced. Katie winced.

Busted.

\--

It was Katie who talked to Jack before Peter did. She had pretty much straight up told him they would be taking Eric with them. Jack grinned evilly.

“You like him.” He taunted. She snorted.

“I’ve barely spoken two words to the guy. Its more the fact that I feel like a bitch. We all complained so much when Pete told us he was moving in and he really doesn’t seem like a bad kid. We should help him out.” Katie said, arms crossed. Jack shrugged his shoulders.

“Sure, I’m game.” He said, shoving his dirty blonde bangs out of his eyes. That was a good quality of Jack’s. He was a laid-back kind of guy, difficult to ruffle. Downside was it meant he was frequently lazy but at least his heart was in the right place. He was also a bit of a pot head but so long as he kept his uniforms clean and didn’t smoke on the property, Pete really didn’t care.

“Great. I’ll go tell him the good news.” Katie said brightly. Jack just shrugged. She took the stairs two at a time. Pulling up short out the front of the last door, she schooled her features and knocked. It took a minute or two for Eric to answer. The door opened slowly as he peaked out.

“Good morning! Bec, Jack and I are heading to the next town over after our shifts today. Pete mentioned you wanted to tag along to grab some furniture?” She thought it was rather cute the way his ears went a dark pink under his mop of black hair.

“I… urh. Well yes. Thank you, I really didn’t want to cause so much trouble.” He said, stumbling with his words. She beamed.

“It’s no problem at all. It will be fun and we can show you around the bay. We all finish at three this afternoon. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Jack’s is the massive blue ute. You can’t miss it.” She waved good bye, struggling not to laugh at his slightly panicked expression as she went back down stairs.

To his credit, Eric Peterson showed up at three.

It was a squashy but with Eric so thin, they were able to fit all four of them into the massive cab of Jack’s old ute.

“I’m Bec. You’ll find me in the restaurant or the bar.” Bec introduced herself, even shaking his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Eric said. Jack laughed.

“No need to be so civil man. I’m Jack by the way. So, what are you after today?” Jack yelled over the roar of the engine. Eric winced a little.

“I was hoping to buy a desk, nothing fancy though. I’m thinking of turning the second bedroom into an office.” He said rather shyly. Nothing fancy. Katie grinned at that.

“Are you studying?” Katie asked, trying to pretend she didn’t already know. He nodded.

“Economics.” He said and paused. Then he added:

“I’m not really supposed to be but I can’t just sit around all day and do nothing.” He said. Jack snorted.

“Economics aye? Sounds boring.” Jack said with a laugh. Eric smiled weakly.

“It is a little.” As they drove the girls pointed this way and that.

“That Pedro’s Woodfired Pizza. It’s really good.” Katie gestured to a glass windowed shop front.

“There a karate dojo too. That’s run by Mr Saito. Most of his student are from the local school.” Bec said as they passed a red brick building. Eric looked at it with keen interest but didn’t say anything. If he was bothered by their chatting he didn’t mention it, just sat quieting, nodding and humming as they talked. Bec tried a few times to ask a couple of questions about what it was like where Eric used to live. His answers were uncomfortably vague and short. Katie guessed he either didn’t want to talk about it or didn’t have much to say. From the snippets they had been told by Pete, the kid’s parents sounded pretty distant and uncaring.

Katie and her brothers may have fought like cats and dogs growing up but she had always been happy to have them, always known she could count on them if she was in a jam. Not wanting to depress Eric, she changed the subject. The traffic was pretty good and they arrived in the next town over in about forty minutes. Being Friday, the shops stayed opened later in the evenings.

“Food?” Jack asked. Everyone nodded.

Jack swung the ute into a parking lot and they all climbed out. There were quite a few people moving about doing their shopping. They joined the crowd and made their way over to a burger shop.

“Most of the good clothing places are down that street. There’s a decent club about a block over. They do cheap cocktails every Tuesday and Thursday.” Bec said thickly through a mouthful of burger. They led him this way and that. They ended up at the furniture store. The showroom floor had that familiar scent of fresh wood, polish and carpet cleaner. They headed over to the desks and Katie was surprised when Eric went for the cheapest thing there. It looked it too.

“I know these are more expensive but they will last a lot longer.” She said, resting a hip on one of the timber desks. Eric flushed a little.

“I don’t normally spend a lot of money.” He said apologetically. She grinned.

“Odd thing to say for someone who bought a beachside apartment without hesitation.” Bec said untactfully. Katie shot her a nasty look to shut her up.

“It’s up to you man but if I were going to pick a desk to sit at all day, I’d want one that is going to be comfortable.” Jack suggested. Eric seemed to think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Help my find one then.” He said lightly. They ended up picking one of the mid-range options. Katie flagged down a sales assistant and Jack took the ute to the loading bay to pick it up. Whilst they were there they also helped Eric pick out an office chair, a DVD and blue-ray rack and coffee machine. Katie exploded with laughter as Eric took the box off the shelf.

“That’s fair. Even I know our coffee tastes like shit. I keep trying to convince Peter to let us buy different coffee beans but he always orders the same damn ones.” Bec giggled. Eric smiled sheepishly at them both. As they loaded up Jack's ute Eric paused.

“Thank you. For everything. This may sound weird but its been a long time since I’ve been around friendly people. You didn’t have to help me out but you all did and I really appreciate it.” He looked at his feet as he spoke and Katie threw caution to the wind and bear hugged him.

“Let the man breathe Katie!” Jack laughed. Eric coughed weakly as Katie released him.

“Sorry.” She giggled. Eric grinned back at her.

He was a lot more talkative on the way back. Jack was delighted to discover that Eric had a PlayStation and was more then happy to play co-op. The girls just rolled their eyes. It was late when they got back and helped move the many odd shaped boxes up to his apartment. As an extra thank you, Eric bought pizza for them to share.

As they sat on the floor of Eric's apartment chatting and eating, Katie couldn’t help but feel that Peter was right.

Eric really was just a normal polite young man.

\--

END

\--


	5. To Fire and Familiar Faces

\--

Chapter Five  
To Fire and Familiar Faces

\--

Eric had rehearsed his story more then a hundred times. It had taken a lot of planning and consideration to decide exactly where he would buy his new home. He had thought about buying a small house in the suburbs but the idea of living alone, working out the land taxes and bills made him wince. At the same time, he could never move into a shared house. He didn’t want what he was to endanger the people he lived with. What then? A complex sounded like a good idea.

Or a townhouse.

Or apartment.

From there came hours of researching. He had been sitting in the café he worked at when a bald man in a blue suit had strode in, handed him a thick letter and strolled straight back out again without a word. He had no idea how they had found him but Eric had known what the letter was. With shaking hands, he had opened it as though it would explode. He read its content again and again.

He had money. It seemed ridiculous. Like being told that you won the lottery. He just couldn’t really believe it. His parents had written a will about five years ago. He remembered because they had sat him and his brother down for a serious talk about what that involved.

Apparently next-door neighbour’s mother had passed away and his mum had been inspired to write one. With Eric now the only surviving member of his family, he had inherited everything. They had owned house insurance as well as life insurance and all that money had been deposited into “Eric Peterson’s” account.

He didn’t believe it even after he contacted the bank.

Or the real estate agent or the broker.

He didn’t believe it when he finally settled on an apartment. He still couldn’t believe it the day he got handed his papers. It was done. He owned an apartment. He had sat on his couch, having quit yet another job and moved to his new town. He thought he would feel relieved, excited even, but instead he just felt deeply alone and a little numb.

The first night of sleeping in a proper comfortable bed was nearly enough to make him weep. Waking up with a back ache or itchy from bedbugs had become so common that it was strange waking up without. That first week in the apartment had been full of uncertainly and fear. He kept expecting to hear a knock on his door or for Peter, the land owner, to tell him that it had fallen through and he needed to leave.

He wanted to paint the protection sigils he had learnt onto the walls of his new home. That would be odd though. He also needed to get a job. He didn’t strictly need one just yet but he was going batty sitting by himself all day. His parents had a college fund for him. They had one for Dean too. Eric decided to use the money to enrol in some online courses. He may not be able to attend college like a normal young adult but he could at least get some qualification in… something. He had definitely had enough of flipping burgers and cleaning toilets to last him a lifetime.

He would admit. After working two, sometimes three jobs just to stay alive, it was incredible to have the luxury of staying indoors and to able to afford food, real food. He could buy clothes that fit him properly and didn’t smell of stale pizza and someone else’s body odour. He threw all of his old clothes away in the first week. That had felt good. Most were so moth eaten and stained they were barely wearable in the first place.

It had taken those first few days to centre himself and decide what to do next. Meeting Katie, Jack and Bec had really pushed him along. He was glad to have met them and spend time with people around his own age. Clair, one of the supervisors had taken a liking to him. Quick as a whip, the woman had an eye for trouble and ruled the staff with an iron fist and multiple baked goods. The first time Eric had come down to try the breakfast table she had promptly sent to his table and brought the menu over.

He would never admit it out loud but having her around made him feel stable even when she did make a comment when his shirt wasn’t tucked in or he slouched in his seat. It felt good to have some sort of parent figure again. That thought made his chest tighten. Nothing was going to bring back his family. He knew that. What he could do now was to find out why they died and find the thing that had hunted him.

There were so many nights in the last few years where something had followed him in the dark. Never in the light of a street lamp or underground in the subway but out in the street, when there wasn’t enough light, it came. The slithering noise of something heavy dragging across grass, pavement and tarmac would be a sound that revisited him in his sleep.

He hated each and every time he had run from that sound when all he had wanted to do was stand and fight. He felt as though he understood what it must feel like to a villager fleeing a soldier, helpless and waiting for a killing blow, not knowing if the next corner he turned would be his last.

That was why Eric had started training himself. He gave himself that first week to rest and recover, to learn about the town. By the second week he had met Mr Saito, the owner of the Karate dojo the girls had pointed out to him and signed up. He had been there three nights a week ever since. He must have been pretty decent or just more motivated than others because he had already graded twice. Eric also went to the beach, every morning before the sun was fully up. He waded out into the calm water. Waist deep and alone, he was able to practice without the risk of setting anything else on fire.

He ran along that beach too, every day. He applied for a job at a small book shop. It meant telling more ridiculous lies but the woman who owned the bookshop, Carol, was more than understanding. Peter told him that Carol had rung the hotel manager to ask him a few questions. A day later, Eric had the job. It was part time but that hardly mattered. It was all about blending in and giving him things to do. The smell of the old books and timber bookshelves was comforting. The shop wasn’t particularly busy during the day and Eric had lots of opportunity to read.

After painting small sigils in a near identical colour of the wall paint inside his apartment, Eric had started scratching sigils into the brickwork around the apartment complex, usually low down the wall where they were hidden by bushes and shrubs.

The only supernatural presence Eric had come across in the town was a witch and she wasn’t a particularly good one. She owned a tea and candle shop along the main tourist road. She hadn’t even recognised him as something non-human the first time he had seen her.

It had been five months since that terrified, scruffy looking boy had turned up at Sunseeker Cove. It had taken five months for him to build a proper life for himself. He had a job, friends and purpose. The wounds from his past weren’t gone but he now had something to stand his ground on.

“Good morning Eric.” Bec yelled from the kitchen entrance. He waved to her, smiling.

“Morning.”

“You interested in something hot for breakfast?” She asked. Eric had planned to just grab some cereal from the continental breakfast offered to everyone but then he shrugged.

“You know what? Absolutely. I love your mushrooms omelettes.” She flashed him a gap-toothed grin.

“Coming right up!” She disappeared back into the kitchen. Grinning, Eric grabbed some juice and sat down. It was pretty busy. Though blissfully quiet in winter, the whole town filled with tourists in the warmer months. There were plenty of beautiful beaches, fishing spots and quirky little shops. The place was especially loud due to three families that were currently staying at Sunseeker Cove, all with small children under the age of eight.

“Can we get in the pool dad?” Nagged a little boy, noisily rattled his cutlery around.

“Later, we haven’t even had breakfast yet.” The mother interjected, her voice tight. Eric watched them with an odd sort of fondness. When he needed to do his class readings, he often printed them off and read them beside the pool.

“Good morning.” Eric glanced up.

“Hey Katie.”

Katie watched Eric stare almost longingly at the squabbling family two tables over. She smiled. She had seen him plenty of times stretched out on the beach chairs by the pool, reading. He never seemed bothered by the noise and was happy to throw the random pool toys back to the kids that often threw them to far. There, shirtless with his school work in one hand and a highlighter in the other, Eric attracted a lot of attention from the young woman who were staying at the cove, much to Katie’s and Bec’s annoyance. Eric just didn’t seem to notice the ogling. Bec had joked that he was probably gay. Katie had snorted. She wouldn’t have cared either way. Eric reminded her of her brothers and she thought of him more in that way. That was mainly because she had seen the slow change from that sickly young man to what he was now.

The girls had been surprised and a little worried when they found out he was learning karate from Mr Saito. Eric had promised them he was only doing light stuff to improve his coordination. Katie promptly told him that he was full of it. He had just grinned.

Despite their disapproval the training seemed to be doing him some good. Eric had put on weight, which was hardly difficult given that he was almost a walking skeleton when he arrived. Broader, toned and tanned from his days wandering the beaches had made Eric something to look at. It was only the few on the staff that still recognised that he wasn’t entirely healthy. He still had a slightly gaunt look to his face, like a returned prisoner of war.

Katie had become both protective and a little attached to him over the last few months and she would admit that the idea that he might leave now that he was better made her uncomfortably melancholy. She thought, or at least hoped, that he had become quite attached to the place.

As she started folding several table cloths, a memory from a month ago made her pause. It had been a Wednesday night and the bar was packed. Unfortunately, many of the guests were young twenty somethings who wanted a good time. Not unusual and not entirely a problem until one guy in particular didn’t seem to take no for an answer. He had grabbed Bec’s wrist after she had turned down his offer to go back to his room. He was only his sixth drink and clearly drunk.

“Let go of her. Now.” The booming voice had almost silenced the room. Eric, dressed sensibly in dark jeans and blue button-down shirt was at the bar side in an instant. Peter at the front desk immediately snapped his head up.

“We were just-”

“I don’t care what you were just. Let go of her.” Eric snapped. Peter was trying to cut through the crowd but he wasn’t having much luck as people stood to gorp. The other young man’s lip curled in a sneer.

“What, she ya girl friend or somethin?” His breathe was coloured sour with beer. Bec twisted and yanked her arm free, glaring at him.

“You have had too much to drink. I suggest you go back to your room and sleep it off.” Eric growled. The drunk idiot had balled his hands into fists. He never got to throw a punch though because with one hand, Eric grabbed him by the collar and held him up, the tips of the guys sneakers barely touching the ground. Eric’s eyes looked almost gold in his fury.

“You have had too much to drink. Hear me?” Eric said, his voice low and menacing. The guy licked his crack lips, bloodshot eyes almost popping with fright.

“Yeah man. Totally. I hear you.” His voice was rather hilariously squeaky. Eric let the him go and guy took several stumbling steps backwards. Face red with a healthy combination of humiliation and alcohol, the man stumbled away from the bar and left. Peter finally made it to their side.

“I’m sorry Pete, that was out of line. I thought he was going to pull her right over the bar.” Eric murmured.

“He bloody well tried.” Bec barked, still massaging her wrist.

“It’s alright. Bec, do you need a minute?” Peter asked. Bec snorted indignantly. 

“Hardly. Not the first drunk guy I’ve had. Thanks Eric.” She said and with a flounce, she went back to serving drinks. He turned to face Eric.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not my place.” Eric apologised. Peter raised a hand to stop him.

“There’s no harm done.”

Katie smiled to herself again. Yes, life had certainly become a little more interesting with Eric around.

\--

Eric’s mouth watered at the large cheesy mushroom omelette that was placed down in front of him. He ate hungrily. He knew better then to order a coffee, namely because Peter was still using that stuff that taste more axel grease. He had already been for a run and was just thinking about what he might do today when something caught his attention. It was a feeling at first, a prickling in the back of the neck like he was being watched. Eric slowly turned his head one way, then the other as though he were harmlessly observing the sights.

He carefully picked apart the auras of the crowd. Pete was at the front desk, Katie had now gone and Sophie, one of the new waitresses, was clearing one of the tables. She blushed when their gazes met briefly. It was loud, the air full of the scent of ocean breeze, toast, coffee and bacon. There were a couple of outside tables for people to sit at. Anyone could come in and eat at the restaurant, not just people staying at one of the apartments. His eyes wandered and stopped at a lone figure.

The man was sitting outside, an untouched coffee on the table and a newspaper in his hands. His posture was a little to perfect and his clothes were ridiculous given the hot weather. He stood out so starkly Eric wondered why he hadn’t noticed immediately. In fact, not a single person, Sophie included seemed to look in the man’s direction, almost as though he was invisible. He was wearing a beige suite, complete with pristine white undershirt and gold cufflinks that caught the sunlight. Eric watched him for a long time, trying to pick out his aura. The man wasn’t even turning the pages of the paper he held. Suddenly the man seemed to sigh. He stood, folded the paper under one arm and turned to look directly at Eric.

Eric’s jaw dropped.

“You!” It was a good thing the breakfast room was so loud and full of people because he wasn’t able to stop the explosive word from leaving him.

Eric stood. The temperature of the room increasing around him as he wasn’t quite able to pull back the rage that swarmed to the surface and buzzed under his skin like a swam of angry wasps. He stormed over to the fae king, ignoring Sophie’s startled look.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eric snarled. Heat collected in his palms against his will. He pushed the fire down. It was like pushing against the tide. Gritting his teeth Eric closed his eyes, knowing his pupils would be gold instead of their usual brown.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

“May we speak?” The fae asked. His voice was the same melodic timber he remembered.

“No.” Eric spat. He heard the sigh.

“Let me rephrase. We need to speak. If not here then somewhere but it must be now.” Eric’s eyes flew open. He didn’t trust himself to reply so he shoved passed and swept out into the street. The fae king followed. Eric kept walking. He was half expecting the man to say something but he didn’t. They passed people out for a stroll, children on bikes and cars on the road. Eric swung down a side street and up an ally way behind Pedro’s Woodfire Pizza.

He was not pleased to see three other fae step into the ally after them. He recognised one as the dark-haired man who had given him his duffle bag all those years ago. Another was much younger, appearing early twenties with dirty blonde hair. The last was a woman with a tight expression and black pixie cut hair. It had been an odd thing to work out were he stood with these people. On one hand, they had certainly saved him but from who or what Eric wasn’t sure. It was what he had learnt during his time running that had him convinced that fae were not and had never been helpful without a malevolent reason.

“Eric Peterson. I will admit, it took an embarrassing amount of effort on our behalf to track you down.” The king said finally. Eric snorted.

“You could have fooled me.” He said bitterly. The king’s expression was unreadable. The other fae looked to be a mix of weariness, distrust and disgust. Well fuck them too. 

“What do you want? I have a life to get back to without you in it.” Eric hissed. One of the men sneered.

“You ungrateful little-” The king raised a hand and the man bristled into seething silence.

“We have come to collect a debt.”

“Sure. Give me a bank account and I will transfer the five thousand right now. Six, given the documentation and list you gave me. That’s about it.” Eric replied, gaze hard. The other fae all shifted, their anger almost palpable. Fae were dangerous ancient creatures to mess with. Little did they know, Eric was one of the same. He was done with running, done with crying and done with letting any and all push him around.

“You misunderstand me. It has come to our attention that your species is… rather more specialised then we had first anticipated. We require your skills.” The king tone was utterly level.

“I am not going anywhere or doing anything for you. We are done.” Eric said.

“You selfish brat! You live because King Arwen showed you mercy and you dare to speak to him that way!? You should be on your knees! You should be thanking us!” The young blonde haired fae apparently couldn’t hold in his anger any longer.

Well. Neither could Eric.

He smirked, the expression halting the fae in front of him.

“I spent a long time thinking about it, you know. A very long time. At first, I thought it was purely selfish, that the fae were just collecting favours as it were. Saving kids and calling in the favours years later. Problem with that theory was a pretty simple one. Hardly any of the kids made it that far, now did they?” Eric growled. The men were slowly circling him, the king standing rather rigidly.

“You can’t just hand the average kid some cash and a dead family and expect them to know what the fuck to do. That got me thinking. What could you possibly gain from this waste of resources then. Because that was what we were. You certainly didn’t give a shit who or what I was. You only had one bag. Attacking the vamps wasn’t a rescue mission was it?” Eric stalked closer. The blonde retreated a step.

“No. No, it wasn’t a rescue. It wasn’t good will. So, what then? Then it hit me. It hit me one night when I had run all the way from the subway to my crappy apartment after something unseeable and deadly dropped out of a fucking tree after the street light went out. We were bait. I was bait.” Eric was so close to the man they were breathing the same air.

“You used me as bait!” Silence filled the ally way. Somehow that made it worse. He expected a denial. The silence was so much more damning.

“Say something you bastards!” Eric roared.

“Take a step back!” the blonde finally screeched. There was a flash of silver at hip level from some sort of blade. That was as far as the fae got.

Flames of gold, crimson and auburn roared to life in the ally. From damp to steam, the puddles in the ally vanished instantly in a violent hiss. The pebbles on the concrete crunched and sparked like flint sparks. Dogs howled nearby. The scent of ozone, heat, dry dust and melting tar was everything. Irises burning gold, Eric raised his clawed hands, commanding the fire forward. He was mildly surprised when the king grabbed the blonde and hurled him to one side. The fire swept forward, slamming the fae king up against the ally wall. It wasn’t burning him.

Yet.

The other fae were frozen, their faces blank with shock and horror.

“You do not get to come here and demand anything from me.” Eric snarled. Large ethereal wings radiated from his back, made of feather and flame they were as blinding as direct sunlight. He heard one of the fae gasp and another curse.

“You may have bullied others into doing what you want but I’m not that scared little kid any more. You know what I am though, don’t you?” Eric sneered. This was years of pain and rage manifesting. He wanted this man to feel every bit of fear that he had felt. Somehow.

The king nodded.

“You’re a phoenix.” The king said, his voice tight with pain.

There were few creatures in the supernatural world that rivalled the magic of the fae. The phoenix was one of them.

Yes, Eric was a phoenix. One of the last of the few families left in the world. Eric gave a small smile.

Then he called back the flames.

The king crumpled to the ground, his perfect clothes singed and crispy.

“And why, for even the shortest instance, would you think I would ever do anything to help you!?” Eric asked, the flames still crackling against the brickwork on all sides.

“Because.” King Arwen rasped as he stood.

“Your brother is still alive.”

\--

END

\--


	6. Chasing Shadows

\--

Chapter Six  
Chasing Shadows

\--

For several long moments the only sounds that could be heard in that alleyway was the crackling of the flames, the far-off chatter of seabirds and mild mid-day traffic. The combination of palpable tension and sucking heat was intensely uncomfortable.

Eric was breathing hard. His ears were buzzing faintly, like white noise. He was searching every inch of the fae in front of him.

His brother.

Alive.

Dean was alive?

“How do you know that?” Eric growled. The air around him shimmered like heat waves off a hot highway road.

Arwen took a long moment to get to his feet. He looked unsteady and sweat beaded his perfect brow.

“The creatures that chased you, that took the children, we think we know what they do to them.” He said. The fire slid away like true magic, leaving nothing but dry skin and the smell of hot tar to remind them it had been there.

“Explain. I thought those things were killing the kids.” Eric replied. The fae king shook his head. Despite the heat, Eric shivered. He could still remember the way those things moved, as though they had no bones.

“We did too. We thought that whatever these creatures were, that they went after the youngest as a way to wipe out any possible competition. We’ve seen that behaviour before. Nagas often target the offspring of any competing supernatural groups that encroaches on their territory.” The king explained. He glanced at the dirty low brick wall on the other side of the ally with a considering look. He seemed to decide that his singed clothing was far beyond repair anyway though, because he sat down on the wall. His guards, though still weary, relaxed a little, sheathing their weapons.

Except for the blonde male fae. His expression was a hefty mix of anger, embarrassment and fear. Eric ignored him.

“But these things are everywhere. I never stuck around long enough to find it if it was always the same creature but they were or had been in every city and town I went to.” Eric replied. The king nodded solemnly.

“Yes, and on most occasions, when they attacked, we weren’t able to recover a body.”

“Most?” Eric said questioningly.

The king nodded.

“There were bodies, generally when the children were a bit older and had tried to fight back.” That response came from the woman. He glanced over at her.

“Were the wounds… festering? Black?” A look of surprise appeared on her face.

“Yes, all of them.” She said. Eric nodded.

“That matches the stories I was told.” He sighed. He rubbed at his face. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was feeling distinctly flat.

“Alright, fine. I’m not having this discussion with you in an alleyway like a bloody drug dealer. There’s a café down the road with little red tables. I’ll meet you there in an hour. Don’t bring him.” Eric said stoutly, nodding to the blonde. The young fae spluttered indignantly.

“Sire, I-”

“Agreed.” Arwen cut across him. Eric turned to go.

“This would be a safer discussion to have at your residence.” Arwen commented. Eric looked over his shoulder with a look that was utterly unimpressed.

“Don’t make that suggestion again.” He said flatly. The king nodded a little hesitantly and Eric left the alleyway.

He got a lot of strange looks when he got back to Sunseeker Cove. Both Bec and Sophie where having coffee by the bar. The restaurant was practically empty, the lull between breakfast and lunch.

“Is everything okay? You just flew out of here.” Sophie said shyly. Eric winced.

“Yeah, I saw someone I knew.” He said as a weak explanation. The girls exchanged glances.

“Someone… not good?” Bec guessed. Thinking of his ‘backstory’ Eric said flatly;

“He was a good friend of my father.” Bec nodded, her face suddenly sour.

“Did he want anything?” Bec asked.

“Unfortunately.” He sighed. Sophie just looked puzzled.

“I’m going to go upstairs to clean up. Sorry for missing breakfast, the omelette was delicious as always.” He said and gave both ladies a kind smile. Sophie went a little pink and started playing with a stray lock of hair. Bec just waved him away, sipping her coffee. As he padded away, he heard her mutter;

“We have got to get Pete to get different coffee.”

\--

The café was busy enough. Having barely touched his breakfast, Eric ordered some potato wedges and a coffee. He waited for about ten minutes before the same creeping sensation spread down his arms. He looked up as Arwen walked in with the woman and the dark haired fae with him. The blonde was nowhere to be seen.

Unlike last time, people were staring.

A lot.

Arwen was utterly impeccable, wearing what he probably thought was casual clothes. Pale faded jeans and a button down pristine white dress shirt, he looked like a magazine model even without the ridiculous long pale silver hair and two body guards.

“For an ancient species, your awful at blending in.” Eric said bluntly as he dipped a wedge into some aioli. Arwen sat down. The other two hesitated.

“Sit down, you’re a bloody eye sore.” Eric growled up at them. Arwen nodded and they sat, perched stiffly on the plastic chairs. Eric sighed.

“Alright, let’s start from the beginning. These things, do you know what they are?” Eric asked, lowering his voice. Arwen shook his head. Eric winced, unable to hide his disappointment.

“No. We have made guesses, all proven wrong over the years. Whatever this is, it’s new.”

“Or very old.” Eric murmured. Arwen tilted his head, considering.

“Possibly…”

“One boy who ended up dead said he thought he was hunted by the grim reaper. Does that mean anything to you?” Eric added, chewing thoughtfully on his wedge. Arwen was quiet for a moment, silver brows pinched together.

“No. Not particularly. The grim reaper is a general, human invented term. To my knowledge it isn’t a real species. There is only one other species that I know of that would potentially have more information…” The king replied.

“Would you like to order anything?” Asked a hesitant, stunned looking waiter. The fae glance up at him.

“Three fruit smoothies please.” Arwen said. He said it so casually that Eric snorted into his cup.

“Sorry. This really is like something out of a bloody cartoon.” Eric sniggered, wiping coffee from his chin. Arwen shrugged.

“We are vegetarians.” The king said.

“I know.” Eric laughed. Arwen raised an eyebrow.

“You do? How?” The king leant forward on his elbows, ignoring the red faced and very confused waiter. After a short pause he rushed off, shoulders hunched. This was probably the strangest thing that had ever happened to the poor teen.

“I read about your kind during my… confinement.” He said, his voice bitter. Arwen sighed.

“Yes. Vampires are, unfortunately, very good at amassing information on others.” The king growled.

“Why were you guys there that night?” Eric leant back in his chair.

“We attacked the vampire clan based on old prejudice. We made the mistake of assuming the disappearance of our adolescences was caused by the vampires. It took us an uncomfortably long time to understand that it wasn’t happening to just us.” Arwen explained. Eric gave another snort.

“The fae didn’t want to think that the missing kids of other species was potentially your problem. You get no sympathy from me on that.” Eric said. The three fae studied him with a look he couldn’t quite identity.

“You really aren’t anything like I thought you would be.” The king’s voice was soft and for the first time, some of the antagonism Eric felt towards them faded a little.

“What did you think I would be like?” Eric asked, eating another wedge.

“We didn’t think you would speak to us.” The dark haired fae said gruffly. Eric gave him a half smile.

“Can I have some names so I can stop refereeing to you in my head by hair colour?” The man gave him a rather crooked grin.

“She’s Alea and I’m Soora. I am the king’s first general.”

“Your hierarchy has generals?” Eric asked, interested. The king nodded.

“Yes.” The waiter returned and put three vaguely pink coloured smoothies on the table. Eric watched with a bemused smile at the three fae sipped their drinks. They really did look ridiculous.

“Okay, can we get to my brother please.” He said. Arwen nodded.

“Once we realized what your family were, we looked into the house fire that claimed your family. We had your documents made and hunted down the vampires that took you. During the research into the house fire we discovered that three bodies were recovered. However, the boy was older then expected. Much closer to your age. Though he was supernatural, our witches discovered he was a shifter, unlike your parents. Feline, if I’m remembering correctly.” The wedge Eric had been holding slipped through his fingers and back onto the plate. A lump formed in his throat.

“Patrick.” He choked out. He hadn’t said the name of his best friend in years.

“You knew the boy?” Arwen’s voice was oddly soft, almost compassionate if fae could be so.

“He was my best friend. We grew up together. He called me that night. He told me his family were dead. I thought Alois had killed him.” Eric struggled to get the words out. It was utterly surreal, sitting in a busy café, with the ocean breeze, warm sun and bustling people all around him.

“There was a time when I thought I would never be happy again without them.” Eric said. His stomach twisted itself into knots. More then once he had thought he didn’t deserve any peace at all. Why should he have it when everyone he knew and loved was dead?

“I am sorry. I’ve lost my own son to all of this.” Arwen said, surprising him.

“You did?” Eric said, looking up from his fisted hands.

“Six years ago.” The king murmured, staring off towards the beach for several long minutes. Eric took the time to compose himself.

“So, what do we know? If they aren’t killing the children they take, what are they doing with them?” Eric asked tensely.

“That’s what we need to figure out, we have resources everywhere, monitoring the morgues and funeral homes. None of the children that are missing have turned up dead anywhere.” Alea said, her face set with grim determination.

“So where do I come in?” Eric asked.

“We know you are different. They pursued you far longer then any of the others. They never target the children once they reach sixteen but you, they tracked all over the country. It’s possible they see you as a threat.” Soora said gruffly. When he turned his head, Eric saw a deep scar that ran back into the man’s hair line.

“That’s a stretch. What can I do that they would fear? What’s so special about phoenix other then our rarity?” Eric grumbled. Controlling fire wasn’t a strictly phoenix ability either. Elemental warlocks and witches could do similar along with a handful of other supernatural creatures.

“We don’t know that yet. We were hoping you would be able to tell us.” Alea said. Eric winced. He had never gone back to his old home. If there had been anything to survive the fire, it would be long gone now. A thought crossed his mind. It was an uncomfortable thought. He remembered seeing his species in that book…

“What?” Arwen asked, watching his face.

“You said that vampires collect information. They would know about my kind.” Eric sighed.

“We don’t speak or bargain with vampires.” Soora spat the word out as though it were something utterly filthy.

“Even if it could give you answers?” Eric asked.

The fae were silent.

Okay.

“What if I could ask?” he asked.

“That would be dangerous.” Arwen pointed out. Eric scoffed.

“I’ll manage.” He said a little more harshly then he meant to.

“I may need a way to find him.” He added after an awkward moment.

“We might be able to help with that.” Arwen pulled something from his pocket and held it out to him.

“What is this?” Eric asked as he was handed a smooth, perfectly oval, grey quartz stone. It was warm and pulsed faintly in his palm.

“It’s a focus stone. It amplifies spells. If you can use a simple tracking spell, it will help you bridge a connection. Do you know any tracking spells?” The king tilted his head, his silver hair tumbling over one shoulder.

“I do. I learnt anything and everything I could when I was on the run. You never know what might be useful.” Eric closed his hand over the stone and pulled out his cell phone.

“Do fae use cell phones?” The three fae actually smiled.

“We don’t live in tree houses or mushroom rings. We do have technology.” The king’s voice was amused. He pulled out a small plain looking phone. Eric rattled off a series of numbers as the waiter came back around with the bill.

“Your shout, seeing as you interrupted my breakfast. Give me a few days. I’ll call you.” Eric said, rising from his chair.

“Cocky bastard, aren’t you?” Soora sneered. Eric smirked at him.

“Maybe, but I’ve earnt it.”

\--

Eric sat cross legged in the centre of his king-sized bed. He had the focus stone in his lap. His brain was a fuzzy churning mess of emotional turmoil. He still wasn’t convinced that the vampires didn’t have something to do with Patrick’s death. The man had held Patrick’s cell phone after all. He was regretting his decision to agree to this. Still, if Dean was alive, if there was even a chance…

He just wished that chance didn’t lie with the master vampire he was about to try and find. After all those years of ducking and hiding. He used to flinch at the mere mention of vampires.

He had never actually used this particular spell before. He had learnt it from a warlock about a year and half ago. It was simple to set up. He had already drawn the three sigils on some printer paper and laid them out. A lit vanilla candle and a small drop of blood into its flame and he was ready. He had been ready for about twenty minutes now…

He bit his lip. He needed to do this. He closed his eyes, relaxed his muscles and breathed slowly. The scent of vanilla coated his palette and seeped into his lungs. Normally, a spell like this only worked in one small region. The weight of the focus stone seemed to get heavier as he concentrated on the sigils. The letters on the paper began to fizzle like popping candy. His mind felt like it was being stretched.

He hit the boundary of the spell’s limit, then like pushing through a barrier, the spell snapped forward again, continuing to expand. Eric grunted in pain as his mind was stretched further then the spell was ever intended. Just before he thought to open his eyes, he saw something. A tall willowy figure made of smoke. He remembered Alois, his shape, his aura. He called to it as loudly as he could. The figure jerked. Pain cut, blade sharp across his temple. Alois was trying to pull away. Eric groaned in pain, desperately trying to establish a connection before the master vampire broke the spell.

“I do not normally respond to personal summons.” The voice was cold and terrifying. This was the voice of a master vampire, the man who killed without mercy. That perfectly stiff posture, that black suit, all familiar and alien at the same time. The connection was painfully strained. Eric grit his teeth as he concentrated. Despite that rage, the wall of compressed ice and menace, to Eric, Alois looked… strained? He had planned so many different ways to start this conversation. All of it dribbled straight out of his head.

“You look tired.” He heard himself say. All at once, the ghastly pulling stopped. The sudden relax of tension made his head spin. Like a television finally turning to the correct channel, the picture of Alois was suddenly snapped into crystal clear picture. The vampire master stood barely six feet in front of him in his mind’s eye.

“… Marcus?” That British accent brought back a wash of memories. Memories of cold nights, eased by an electric blanket and long fingers combing through his hair. He shivered.

“It’s Eric now, actually.” Eric said. He could read the stunned look of the pale face. Alois stepped toward him.

“You’ve grown.” The vampire purred, his eyes wide. Eric shrugged.

“Tends to happen.” He said. They looked at each other for an extended moment, Eric’s throat dry and unresponsive.

“I need your help.” Eric blurted out. There wasn’t any point in trying to pretend this was for another reason. Alois tipped his head to the side.

“I was right, wasn’t I? That you were special. Tell me what you are.” Alois’s face was a mask of greedy excitement, some of the powerful monster sneaking to the surface as his fangs peaked out over his top lip.

“If I tell you, will you help me?” Eric asked nervously. Those wild hungry eyes made him feel young and small again, like at any moment he would be attacked and his insides scooped out and left to rot.

“And what is it you want from me darling?” Alois purred.

“Information.” He said. He was annoyed that his voice was shaking a little. He was supposed to be his own powerful force, immovable and unintimidated. His kind were deadly to creatures like vampires. So why was this so damn hard!?

“Be more specific love.” Alois coaxed, sliding closer with movement like smoke.

“They think my brother might still be alive. I have to find him.” Eric replied.

“They?” The vampire master smirked. Eric shook his head.

“Will you help me?” Alois considered him for a moment. Eric didn’t miss the way those eyes travelled his body. He tried not to fidget.

“Alright. Consider my curiosity peaked. We vampires do love to collect knowledge. Tell me your woes and I will give you what information I can.” He said. Eric was taken aback. He wasn’t expecting this to be so easy…

“Starting with you.” Alois added. Eric took in a deep breathed and let it out slowly.

“I’m a phoenix.” He said. If it were possible, the vampire’s black eye got darker still. He was standing so straight and so still.

“Of course you are.” Alois breathed, his words full of wonder. Eric shifted uncomfortably.

“The fae-” Alois cut him off a with a low hiss that made Eric’s body sweat with instinctive fear.

“They took you from me.” He snarled, his tight features twisting into something hideously unnatural.

“They are the ones that attacked that night, yes. They think my brother is alive.” Alois let out a bark of laughter.

“Do they now? Fae are disgusting liars. They would tell you anything to get you to do as they wish. You must not believe them. Tell me where you are darling. If your brother is alive, I will help you find him.” His words were like honeyed glass. He knew the sort of reputation the fae had and yet he didn’t sense any ill will from King Arwen but was that his naivety?

“Why don’t you tell me where you are darling?” The voice was like silk. Eric shivered. He wanted, no, needed to tell him.

No.

No that wasn’t right.

“Stop it.” Eric snapped, fighting the vampire’s compulsion.

“You called me, darling. Don’t you want my help?” Alois purred.

“You don’t need to be in my room for that.” He growled. The vampire’s smirk widened.

“You own your own place now?” He asked conversationally. The bastard was fishing for information.

“Absolutely. A little tent in Switzerland.” Eric said flatly. The vampire laughed.

“Alright, have it your way darling. I will help you find your brother but if you want to talk then we will do it in person. You can pick the place, date and time.” The vampire purred. Eric glared at him, distrustful.

“I can kill you Alois. I don’t care how old you are. Vampire don’t heal from burns caused by phoenix fire. I know that much.” He growled. The master vampire nodded.

“Very true. Pick the place and time. I will be there. Until then.” Before Eric could say another word, the spell broke like a soap bubble.

The crashing sensation of coming back to himself nearly sent him tumbling off the bed. Eric lay there for several minutes groaning in pain. The bastard had absolutely done that on purpose. He covered his eyes with one arm. Now he had to work out what to do next and if he was going to tell the fae king…

\--

END

\--


	7. Into the Lion's Den

\--

Chapter Seven  
Into the Lion’s Den

\--

Eric didn’t sleep much that night. He stayed up researching where to go to set up this meeting. He chose a well-known restaurant in a nearby city. The city was large enough and better yet, was close to an airport. It would take him a day of riding to reach it but there was no way he was inviting Alois here. Better the master vampire think that he lived there or better yet, flown there. After he had chosen the venue, he had lane wide awake on his bed. 

With a groan, he got back up and grabbed for his laptop. He started searching the local news. He didn’t know what he was looking for. With a pen in his mouth and a note pad on the bed he started pouring through articles, searching for anything that looked odd or interesting. House fires, deaths, disappearances. There certainly weren’t any near his little town. 

That would make sense if these things were targeting supernatural families. Aside for the odd little witch in the tea shop, there wasn’t any other supernatural people of interest in the area. He did pause on one article about a missing boy. It was from three years ago around Christmas, at the height of the tourist season. According to the article, the family had been on holidays. The little boy, named Austin, went down to the beach with his older sister. The boy never came back. The sister, a seventeen-year-old named Holly, claimed she had never seen him get into the water and a body was never recovered. 

Eric sighed. He could only imagine how horrible Holly’s life had become. He knew what it was like to feel responsible for a lost family. His stomach twisted. As he made himself a fresh cup of coffee, he thought that is was very possible that little Austin could have been something other than human but without meeting the family, there was no way of knowing for certain. Under the age of ten and away from his parents, he was the perfect target. Why leave the girl though? Could it be true that these things only went after children?

The stars had dulled into dawn haze when Eric finally looked up from his laptop with blood shot eyes. He stretched, his joints popping. Pages of notes lay strewn around him. He opened his patio door to let in the fresh sea breeze. It was still cool but wonderfully pleasant after a long night in his stuffy apartment. The other residents were yet to stir. He stood there for several long moments. Eric decided to go for a run along the beach. He would have to perform the locator spell again today to tell Alois where he wanted to meet but he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. His insides did an involuntary squirm at that thought.

He had long since convinced himself that he would never see the master vampire again. At least not voluntarily. Those years on the run, he had been sure he never wanted to cross paths with any vampire. After all this time he had to go back and face his fears, face Alois. 

Sand flew out from under his bare feet as he jogged along beside the waves. He would have to talk to Pete and the girls when he got back and let them know he would be gone for a few days. It was so quiet at the book shop at the moment that he very much doubted that his boss would mind him taking the days off. 

This feud between the fae and the vampires could easily become a large problem. He still didn’t know much about what he was facing and he had a sinking feeling he was going to need them both in order to find his brother. 

If he was still alive. 

Eric ran until he felt like his lungs would explode and his calves would tear. Heaving for breath he finally stopped, bending double to chase oxygen. He took in deep pounding breathes, letting the roar of the ocean waves and the taste of salt in the air calm him. He had run a long way and the sun had finally risen into the sky. He watched a flock of seagulls squabbling to catch fish entrails, tossed out by a couple of elderly fishermen cleaning their catch on a nearby wharf. 

The world was calm and peaceful. 

It was odd that such a place could still contain so much horror and uncertainty. One of the fishermen looked up. Eric gave a small wave before turning and slowly making his way back up the winding beach. When he got closer to home, he went into the surf to wash the sand from his legs and face. 

“Rough night?” Bec called as she watched him sneak into the café. He jumped, his face a little guilty. 

“Yeah. There still cereal?” He asked hopefully. She snorted inelegantly. 

“Of course.” She said, nodding to the breakfast bar. He helped himself to a large bowl of sugary cereal. Not his usual choice but today he wanted it. He watched Pete as he strode passed, a dish clothes over one shoulder. He liked Peter very much. The older man was never afraid to get in a help whoever needed it. He was just as likely to be greeting guests and taking bookings as he was to be serving drinks, washing dishes or cleaning tables. He was a good manager. Eric shovelled down his food and placed his bowl of the dirty dish rack and hurried over to catch up to him. 

“Pete, do you have a minute?” The manager turned at the sound of his name.

“Good morning Eric. What can I do for you?” He asked jovially. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I would be gone for a few days and not to worry.” Eric said. Peter frowned. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning against the reception desk. 

“Yeah. I’m meeting up with an old friend.” Eric replied rather woodenly. He was hoping Peter wouldn’t read into his rather fixed smile. The older man raised an eyebrow but gave a slow nod.

“Sure thing. Well if you want your sheets or towels washed, just drop them off downstairs before you head off.” He said.

“Thanks, Pete, I will.” Feeling no less apprehensive, Eric turned to head back to his apartment. He still had to pack.

And contact Alois again.

\--

The spell for reaching Alois was not as difficult to cast the second time. For starters, he now knew what he was doing. For a second, the vampire wasn’t trying to prevent contact. The sun was well in the sky and Eric wasn’t entirely sure if he could reach the vampire master, but he didn’t want to wait another day. 

He had already decided he didn’t want to tell the fae king. Not yet anyway. If the feud between the two species was as old and strong as he suspected, then there was a good chance that Alois would not meet with him if he suspected that the fae would also be there. He also didn’t trust that Arwen wouldn’t try to follow him and crash the meeting. 

Eric took a steading breathe as he lit the candles. As he settled on the bed with the focus stone in his palm, he tried to clear his racing thoughts. A brief sting of pain, a single drop of blood and Eric felt the pull. 

It was less like stretching and more like being towed along. It was unnerving but he felt as though his mind was being yanked forward towards Alois. The vampire was waiting for him somewhere out there in this other world. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end. He wanted to open his eyes, call this whole thing off. 

But then Dean’s face flashed briefly in his memory and Eric gritted his teeth and clamped his eyes shut tighter. 

The tall figure of the vampire master appeared much like last time. It was though smoke was being pushed together, becoming more solid until the man stood before him. Snapped into place like a photograph. 

“So soon.” Alois purred.

“Don’t pretend as though you weren’t expecting it.” Eric grumbled. The vampire smirked; the corner of a fang visible for a moment. 

“True. You have picked a place to meet then?”

“I have.” He hesitated for a moment then added;

“I will be coming alone. I expect you to do the same.” Alois raised a dark eye brow.

“Oh? No fae to protect you from the blood thirsty vampire? Or perhaps…” The vampire’s eyes narrowed in a sort of malicious triumph. 

“You haven’t told them you made contact with me.” Eric gave a half shrug, trying to appear unconcerned. He didn’t like how smug Alois looked.

“I haven’t needed protecting in a long time Alois.” He replied. The vampire gave him a long, rather insulting look, as though he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

“The place is called Eaton’s Pub.” Eric continued, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and wanting to get this conversation done with. The vampire’s smirk widened.

“A pub?” 

“Its popular. I don’t care if you don’t like it.” Eric snapped. This time it was the vampire who shrugged. It was a bizarre gesture from a creature that usually stood so still and stiff. 

“Tomorrow night.” Eric added and gave the man the address. Alois considered for a moment and nodded.

“I will be there.” He said finally. The vampire turned away from him and with a wave of a pale hand, the connection between them broke. 

It was abrupt as last time and Eric had to clutch the bed covers for several long minutes until the world stopped rocking. 

He cursed. Loudly. 

It hadn’t taken him long to throw a few key items in a large back pack and lock up his apartment, his helmet under one arm. Several times he had picked up his phone, stared at it and then thrown it back down on the bed. He still wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. When he had picked it up the fourth time to see a missed call from an unknown number, he felt even less sure. He was almost positive that call had been from one of the fae. 

He should have checked in with them by now. He didn’t want them tracking his phone, so he left it on the bedside table. His apartment was so careful scrawled with sigils that he knew nothing could get in or out without his say so, electrical or otherwise. He sighed, taking one last look about before turning and closing the front down behind him with a resounding click.

Eric threw one leg over his motorbike. He remembered with some amusement when he had tried to put on his riding gear a month ago only to find his jackets and pants were several sizes too small. He had almost forgotten just how thin and sickly he had been when he had come out of hiding. Honestly, he was mildly amazed he hadn't killed himself on this motorbike. He certainly wouldn’t have been strong enough to lift it back then if it had ever fallen over. 

The engine roared to life as he double checked his helmet and switched on his Bluetooth ear buds. Pete waved as Eric kicked up the stand and backed out of his little parking space. 

Eric loved his motorbike. True, it wasn't very practical for moving but he hadn't owned much when he first arrived at Sunseeker Cove. There was a certain sense of fierce elation and freedom that came from riding through the countryside on a motorbike. It felt as though nothing in the world would ever catch him, like he could truly fly. 

It was still early and there was no traffic as Eric road out of the town. The beach glittered merrily to his right, the shop windows glinting on his left. The sky was full of white fluffy clouds, giving some relief from an already bright hot sun. It would take him roughly three hours to reach the next inland town, from there four more to get to the city. He was glad he had new gear. It was going to be a long day.

He stopped once before the first town to get some feeling back in his legs and relive his bladder. A woman was selling cherries beside the road. He bought a small bag and leant against a picnic bench to eat them. He was still trying hard not to think about the day ahead. More specifically, about the vampire master he would becoming face to face with. Any thought of the white, almost see-through skin, those dropped fangs and black eyes made his stomach clench. 

He wasn't a child anymore. He shouldn't be afraid of Alois. That meant very little now that he had seen the man again. Sighing, Eric threw the bag of pits in the trash, climbed back onto his motorbike and eased back onto the road. As it was a weekday, there still wasn't much traffic and he was finally able to relax and enjoy the ride. Onto a highway, off again, down several scenic tracks and back onto a highway again. He wiggled his toes in his steel cap boots as they started to go numb. Glancing at his watch it was nearly two in the afternoon. As the small houses started to come into view, Eric looked through the shop windows of the small town until in found a bakery. He stopped in to eat and drink. People gave the leather clad young man a few curious looks as they bustled about with their own shopping. He stretched, put his helmet back on and kicked the motorbike to life. 

He weaved easily in and out of the traffic throughout the afternoon. The country side was starting to die away towards the late afternoon. The road was become larger and busier as he got closer to the city. He had made good time. Finding a small motel towards the outskirts, he decided to stay the night. 

The carpet was a little grubby, the cob webs low from the ceiling and the picture frames looked as though they had never been dusted. Eric wasn’t bothered. He had certainly stayed in far worse places in his life. The man behind the desk was friendly enough. To Eric’s surprise, he could see the manager was in a shapeshifter. Something about the shrew lingered in the balding man’s features and he wore particularly thick spectacles. 

“Hi, I’d like to book a room with a single bed for one night?” Eric asked. The man nodded cheerfully. 

“Certainly. Will that be cash or card?” Eric pulled out his wallet and paid cash. It was a habit to pay cash rather than card. He still didn’t like leaving trails wherever he went. The manager handed him his room key and pointed him down the hall. Bathrooms were communal. Something else he had long since gotten used to in his past life. Wistfully, he reflected that he had become rather spoilt with his apartment. 

His current room was small, a little musty but neat. The mattress sank unevenly under his weight as he sat down. It was getting dark outside and he was stiff from the long ride. He stretched slowly, feeling joints pop. He stood. Out of trained habit, Eric checked out the windows for movement in the ally. He saw nothing but he didn’t relax. He took a lead pencil from his backpack and carefully scrawled tiny sigils in key corners of the room. He would rub them off in the morning. 

More tired than hungry, he laid back on the bed and flicked on the small television. He let it play on a random channel, not really watching with any focus. He shifted about as a disjointed mattress spring stabbed painfully into his lower back. Tomorrow night he would come face to face with the vampire he had spent so many years running from. He closed his eyes. It had been a long day. His muscles ached distantly. Outside was the sound of traffic and disjointed voices. He listened for a while, his mind drifting and eventually, he fell asleep.

\--

Eric resisted the urge to check his appearance in the mirror behind the bar. He had decided to wear his steel capped riding boots, black jeans and heavy jacket. He was a little ashamed to admit that it was partly because it made him look slightly more intimidating. Which was ridiculous considering what he was about to converse with but ah well. The second reason was that his riding gear had, however small, some armour built in. He didn’t really think Alois would attack him even if they weren’t meeting in such a public place but the weight of it over his shoulders was calming all the same. 

The pub was not as busy as he would have liked. The bar was crowded with people chatting noisily but the longue area which was down a small flight of stairs towards the back of the room, was suspiciously unoccupied. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the week and the weather outside had turned to a most evil rain, the kind that seemed to lash from all directions.

He wondered briefly if he should get a drink. He wanted to. Badly. The buzz of the alcohol would help soothe his frazzled nerves and give his hands something to hold onto when the time came. It wasn’t a good idea though. A clear head would be better no matter how nervous or uncomfortable he was. 

He looked slowly out over the pub. He didn’t need to seek out the figure dressed in an impeccable suit. He had felt the man’s eyes on him the second he had walked through the heavy door. Alois was seated on one of the lounges in the furthest corner. Partly obscured by the meagre lighting, he had one long leg folded over the other, arms cast out as though the couch was a thrown. 

Gritting his teeth, Eric squared his shoulders, and made his way towards the vampire. His eyes moved from left to right, trying to read the auras of everyone around him, seeking out more vampires. There was just one more vampire, a brooding hunched figure standing near the exit. A single body guard, not that the master vampire needed it. 

Eric stopped.

From less than a metre away now, Alois stared up at him. 

He was exactly way the way Eric remembered him. The pastel skin, the sleek dark hair and the height cheek bones. The immaculate suit jacket was pulled up at the wrist, displaying thick blue veins. The eyes looked almost human; the colour could nearly be a dark brown to the uneducated. Eric gave a shiver as he realised the only way Alois could have achieved this façade was by feeding recently and a lot. 

He stood rooted to the spot, looking the vampire up and down. It took several long silent moments to realise that Alois was looking at him in much the same way.

“I had almost begun to think you would not come.” The British accent was oh so familiar. Eric shivered. 

“I’m not that late.” Eric murmured. The vampire waved a hand to the spare arm chair. Eric made his way over and sat down rather woodenly.

“The Marcus I knew wouldn’t have been late at all.” Eric stared at the small coffee table between them. How long had he stayed under Alois’s care? A month? Two months? Three?

“I’m not that boy anymore.” Eric said. The vampire nodded.

“No. No you are not.” He said it almost reverently. Eric struggled with his words. His throat had become oddly tight. 

“How are you?” The vampire asked politely. Eric stared and then shook his head. This was to weird. Even for him.

“I need a drink.” He said hoarsely. Alois smiled without teeth.

“Already ordered. I hope scotch is acceptable?” The man offered. Eric just nodded. He slumped in his arm chair, feeling overwhelmed already. The vampire allowed him to sit in silence for a short while. A young man in a plain black uniform came over and placed down two glasses of scotch with a polite nod. Despite his trepidation Eric couldn’t help but watch in fascination as Alois picked up one of the tumblers and took a sip of the liquid inside. Eric copied him. The slight burn of the liquid on the way down warmed him a little.

The vampire was watching him so intently. The look was guarded but even so there was a sort of hunger in it that made him anxious. 

“I didn’t really expect for you to contact me, not after staying hidden for so long” Alois said, his voice smooth. Eric gave a small smile.

“I did. You nearly found me once already.” 

“When?” The vampire asked sharply. 

“A couple of years ago. I was sitting inside a café and I saw you outside the window. My heart was beating so damn hard I was sure you could hear it. You didn’t though. You just walked away down the street. I stayed in that place for hours, so sure that you would be waiting just outside.” Alois gave a little shake of his head. He looked almost amazed. 

“You were so good at slipping through my fingers. I never stopped looking for you though.” Alois murmured. 

“That’s…. oddly comforting in a disturbing sort of way” He muttered. The vampire smiled. Eric took another swig of his scotch, swirling the liquid around in his glass. It didn’t take him long to finish it and before he could even think about ordering a second, the server had swept up the empty glass and replaced it. He hadn’t eaten anything, having been to nervous, and the alcohol was already starting to buzz faintly in the back of his skull. He sighed deeply. 

“I was approached by several fae recently.” Eric said, feeling as though they needed to start somewhere. Alois leaned in. 

“They just… wandered up to you? How did they find you?” The vampire asked. Eric hesitated then. He wasn’t proud to admit that he really had no idea how they had managed to find him. 

“I don’t know exactly how they tracked me down. I wasn’t interested in listening to them at first. I know they set me up.” He growled. 

“They used the children of other supernatural creatures as bait to trap one of these creatures.” Alois summarised. Eric felt his own eyebrow rise.

“You know about that?” He asked rather stupidly. Alois gave an undignified snort. 

“It is what they do. Fae have always considered themselves above others. Their blood is ancient as are their traditions. They have not changed their habits or their strategies in thousands of years. They have not made themselves liked by other species.” Alois said with a slight sneer. 

“I can’t imagine you made yourselves overly friendly towards them yourselves.” Eric muttered, sipping at the new drink. Alois smirked.

“No. I can’t say there is much I favour more than drinking the blood of a screaming fae. Such a light flavour.” He purred. Eric rolled his eyes.

“Gross.” He grunted. The master laughed, the sound skating down Eric’s arms. 

“Tell me about what have you been doing for the last few years.” Alois asked, sipping his drink. Eric gulped down the rest of his glass. The waiter appeared with the bottle to refill the tumbler.

“Leave the bottle.” Alois said to the waiter. The young man gave a little nod. He was human and Eric could see that even so, the man sensed Alois was dangerous. Inhuman. He backed away and disappeared into the crowd. Alois took the bottle and refilled the glasses. Eric took a slow sip of his third drink. He needed to slow down on the alcohol. 

“Children live in this whole other world. Parents are, in this strange sense, immortal. You never fathom, as a child, your mother of father dying horrifically. You here about it, see it in superhero comics and on television but it’s all somehow separate. You can’t really process what it would be like to come home and find them dead. What was I supposed to do but survive? I couldn’t even begin to process the world around me.” Eric swirled the tumbler for several long moments. Alois didn’t try to interrupt him. 

“Why were you there that night? Why did you take me with you? Taking children is frowned upon by vampires. I know it is.” He voiced the question he had always wondered since that first day he had opened his eyes in Alois’s compound. The master vampire gave him a considering look. Finally, he said

“You are quite correct. The act of taking children is deeply unpopular among my kind however I felt that the circumstances required it. It is true what I first told you. Your parents were dead when my coven and I arrived. Truthfully, we were surprised by the level of destruction involved. We had been tracking those creatures for months when we reached your city. Despite what you may believe, these creatures generally only snatch the children, they don’t often kill the entire family. They had singled your family out. You were special. Exactly why, I didn’t know at the time. To this day I am still not sure.” Eric couldn’t hide his disappoint. He sunk back against the couch.

“I saw you, young and frightened, running down the street towards the blaze and I knew my chance to find out was shrinking. If you were taken in by the local authorities, I might have lost track of you. So, I took you. I wanted to know what made you special enough for those creatures to hunt you that night.” Alois murmured. 

“Every night.” Eric murmured. The vampire tilted his head.

“Pardon?” Eric looked up.

“Every night they hunted me once I escaped. For years.” He could tell this news surprised the master. Alois collected himself quickly though.

“Truly? Did you ever manage to fight back?” He asked. Eric shook his head.

“No. I only mastered control over my fire in the last year. I couldn’t rely on my abilities and without them, I was effectively helpless. By staying in crowds and in bright places, I could outrun them for one more night.” He said. Alois shook his head slowly.

“I am sorry.” The vampire murmured. He reached a hand out slowly and Eric let the cold finger tips brush the back of his hand. 

“Do you think my brother could be alive?” Eric asked. The master considered this for a long moment, running his thumb over the top of Eric’s knuckles. 

“I can’t say for sure. I have never known these creatures to so desperately chase one person across sea and country. Whatever they do with them, I’m not convinced they kill them.”

“Arwen said none of the missing children have been identified in any morgues.” Eric said with a nod. The vampire’s lip curled at the sound of the fae’s name. 

“Yes. That much we can agree on.” He growled. Eric sighed.

“I don’t know how this is going to work if you can’t work with each other.” He muttered. The vampire’s eyes narrowed.

“You shouldn’t be trusting them either. Let me help you. We don’t need the fae to find these creatures.” he dared meet the black eyes. 

They reminded him of slowly spinning pools of black liquid. It was like staring over the edge of an immense well, looking down and seeing utter nothingness. He stared, feeling his body lean forward. Cool fingertips gently took the glass from his loosening grip. 

“It’s Eric now isn’t it?” Alois purred. His head felt as though it were filled with fog. Between the rich alcohol, warm atmosphere and those black eyes, Eric was finding it difficult to remember where he was or what they were talking about. 

“Urh… yes?” his words were thick. Cools fingers gently stroked his hands, rubbing his palms. It felt good. He shivered. This… wasn’t right. Was it? He tried to close his eyes. The sensations followed him into the darkness. He felt oddly relaxed. That all too familiar ache seemed to ease a little in his soul. It was like his brain was forgetting parts of the pain. The memories of it. He sensed more than saw when Alois moved in closer and Eric sucked in a breath. 

“Come back with me. We will find your brother.” Alois murmured. Eric’s eyes snapped open. He was struggling to think plainly. He shook his head but the room didn’t get any clearer. Beneath the fog and the calm, he felt a strange sense of foreboding.

“Its alright Eric. Let’s go.” Honey rich, familiar and overwhelming, the voice coaxed yet further forward in his seat. 

“He will not be going anywhere with you.” The voice was flat. Just like that, the fog dissipated and Eric was snapped back to reality with finality of a head on car collision.

“Son-of-a, did you just try and compel me again?!” Eric snarled, wrenching his hands from the master’s grip. To his fury the master vampire only offered a satisfied smile and leaned back once more on the couch, relaxed.

“It was worth the attempt. I had already suspected your little friends were lurking nearby.” He said. He took a sip from Eric’s glass.

Eric’s head snapped around to his left. Arwen stood there, looking ridiculously out of place in a white and gold suit, his long hair braided neatly over one shoulder. Alea and Soora stood either side, like the world’s most obvious body guards. Despite the insanity of the situation, nobody seemed to be looking at him. People were still sitting at the bar, talking, laughing and shouting. It was… odd.

“I did not ask you to follow me.” Eric growled. Arwen didn’t even look at him.

“No but you are young and your judgement is poor. I stationed a few soldiers around the perimeter of the town in case you left. Clearly it was necessary.” The fire that burned inside his core flared with his anger. 

“I don’t need your help. I was doing just fine.” Eric snarled. Arwen’s face was expressionless, bored almost.

“He had you under his compulsion.” Alea spat. Eric glared at them.

“I had it under control.” His head was still fuzzy. He guessed that was partly due to the liquor on an empty stomach. 

Idiot. 

He had never been so reckless. What was it about the vampire that had dropped his mental guards to such an ungodly degree? 

He didn’t know what he hated more, the fact that the fae had followed him or the fact that he may have needed them. 

“At any rate, the boy is under out protection. It has become clear you know nothing about the threat and thus, you have outlived your usefulness.” King Arwen said. A lesser being would have been afraid. If anything, Alois’s smirk just got wider.

“Have I now? So, you know the location of their nest, do you? How interesting.” He purred, a hint of one long fang visible. Alea took a step forward, her hand moving to the inside of her jacket lapel.

“Oh, do what you like. Clearly, you don’t mind breaking the statue of secrecy with collateral damage.” The vampire said comfortable. He raised one pastel pale hand and snapped his fingers.

With that snap, all fifty-two people in the pub froze. Like a morbid game of musical statues, every human in the building became completely still. The young woman at the bar had been pouring a shot of whiskey. The liquid inside the bottle continued to pour out, overfilling the glass and splashing down into the counter top. The bartender didn’t even blink.

“You compelled them all!?” Soora wasn’t able to hide the shock in his voice. 

“I am a master vampire, boy. Do not forget that.” The jovial tone in Alois’s tone died. His black eyes fixed on the fae and the temperature of the public space dropped by several degrees. 

“You know the location of the nest?” Arwen’s voice was a disbelieving sneer. 

“And you don’t.” The satisfaction in those three words was palpable. Arwen’s face was stony. To put it lightly, the king was pissed. 

It probably wasn’t often that the fae king was outsmarted or outmatched. Now he had been outmatched twice in a month. Once by the young phoenix and just now by an apparent old enemy. Eric might have found the situation funny, if he wasn’t bloody livid.

“I didn’t come here with them. I trusted you.” Eric snarled at the vampire. Was it in his imagination or did Alois’s expression change for the briefest moment? It had looked oddly like guilt. Soora spat on the floor.

“A true representation of just how stupid you are. Perhaps you really did just survive this long on dumb luck.” The fae sneered. Eric’s head twisted around to look at him, irises turning gold and pupils contracting. The blood was starting to pound in his ears again. 

“You believe his brother to be alive. Why is that? What is your proof?” Alois purred. 

“I don’t have to explain my reasons to you vampire.” Arwen said coldly. He turned but never got further than a few steps. 

Flames exploded from the floorboards. The years of lacquer melted and bubbled under the heat. The egg white paint on the nearby wall peeled and blistered. Smoke billowed out as the flames ate aggressively through the old floor. 

“You need to explain to me.” Eric snarled. Alois had lost his self-assured smugness completely now and was rising slowly from the couch. Eric had been correct about his facts. Vampires burned and phoenix fire was deadly, even to a coven master. 

“The only reason I am here is to find out what happened to my little brother. To find out where he is. So, you two are going to get your fucking shit together and play nice or I am going to turn the both of you two ash here and now.” He thundered. The two fae soldiers both reached for their weapons but the flames roared up to meet them, surrounding them complete as gold eyes fixed on their bodies.

“Don’t move.” Arwen called. Not that they could now anyway. 

Eric had never felt such a sickening inferno of painful emotions. Rage, betrayal, misery, fear, worry and loss. 

He wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out. 

He wanted to go home.

But…

How could he ever be happy now, ever be whole with the knowledge that Dean was out there somewhere? If he wasn’t to blame for abandoning his little brother when he was taken by Alois then he certainly would be now. 

Eric tried to take in air but the smoke was making it difficult to breathe. His lungs hurt. 

“Eric, this fire will suffocate the humans if you don’t put it out.” Arwen said. His voice was level but one hand was moving towards the sword on his hip.

“You attack him and he’ll blow up the entire city block. Us along with it. He’s too young and we’ve upset him too much.” Alois growled. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Tears were biting at the corners of Eric’s eyes. he had fucked up so badly. He gritted his teeth but the flames could not be pulled back. they were starting to spread of their own volition now, ignoring his magic and leeching toward the living statues. Eric started to panic but this only fed the blaze.

“Eric.” Alois called. 

“Markus, look at me sweet.” The British lilt and the sound of his old name made him turn his head. The fae hesitated but did not try to stop the vampire from coming closer. Perhaps he was to worried about the licking flames edging up the support beams... 

“Focus on calling back the fire.” He instructed. Eric shook his head.

“I can’t.” he rasped. Pale hands reached for his face.

“You can. They are yours and they respond to you. Breathe love.” Eric stared into those black eyes and let himself relax into the swirling eternity inside them. Slowly, the light of the surrounding room got dimmer and dimmer as the flames shrank and then vanished. 

Not a long while, no one moved.

“Well.” Alois sighed.

“I think its time we all sat down and had a nice… civilised conversation.” 

\--

END

\--


	8. An Unsightly Suggestion

\--

Chapter Eight  
An Unsightly Suggestion 

\--

Eric was hunched over the little table they now all shared. The outbreak of flame had been a horrifying loss of control, one that Eric had not experienced in a long time. He was lucky that he hadn't killed anyone. He felt every bit the child that Soora had accused him of being. Guilt, embarrassment and misery sat at the forefront of his mind, weighing on him much like a physical stone. Stuck between the fae king and the vampire master, all he wanted to do was vanish. This whole thing had been a horrible idea. 

Why was he even doing this to himself? The chances of Dean being alive were almost zero. It had been so many years. The lump in his throat was uncomfortable as he struggled with his control.

The little party had moved locations. Alois had compelled the entire room of people to believes that one of the patrons had started the fire with a dropped cigarette and the staff had put it out. if Eric hadn't been so distracted and mortified over what had just happened, he probably would have been utterly dumbfounded by the sheer power of the vampire to be able to compel so many people at once. The fae could not use their magic to fix the scorched furniture. Apparently, phoenix fire could not be healed by anything. That information alone was probably why the other fae were now treating him as though he were a barely contained rabid animal or more accurately, an armed bomb. 

They now sat in an elegant little restaurant. The whole evening had gone spectacularly wrong. He had chosen the pub in the first place for how crowded and busy it had been. Not that the crowd had made a difference. He had no idea that Alois had been capable of such a high level of compulsion. A far cry from the establishment they had just vacated, the restaurant the odd company now sat in was quiet and elegant. 

Classical music played over the soft chatter and click of silverware. Eric was feeling horribly under dressed, out of place and uncomfortable. Thankfully they had a booth to themselves and the tip that Arwen left the waiter to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed was more than enough to quell any odd looks they might have received from the staff. 

"So, now that we have done the proverbial dick measuring contest and both lost to a child, how about we get do to some real business." Alois was the only person who looked rather delighted by the turn of events. He was leaning back casually in his chair, completely relaxed. His one vampire bodyguard, a huge figure by the name of Frank was stationed outside. Why, Eric couldn't fathom. The master vampire clearly didn't need a guard. Soora kept sending distrustful looks at Eric, as though he would spontaneously combust at any given moment. Eric didn't blame him. Nobody spoke, so the vampire sighed and tried again. 

"Eric's brother. Explain." He said. Arwen's jaw was tight but with a glance at the hunched phoenix between them his expression shifted. 

"He was seen." He said as though this explained everything. Eric lifted his chin off his chest and stared at the fae king.

"What do you mean 'he was seen?' By who, when? How did they know it was him when everyone thinks he's dead?" Eric asked. 

"They didn't. Not at first. As you well know, Phoenix are rare, even more so for this continent. From what we discovered; your family was one of the last in the region.” Eric could feel the lump forming in his throat at the words. 

“On the 26th of July, several of my people were attacked whilst conducting a scheduled nightly cash drop off from one of our businesses." Arwen’s tone was flat, matter-of-factly. 

“At first, it was assumed the attackers were humans after the money but when one of my guards attempted to engage, his magic had no effect. They came out of the shadows, figures with no faces and no weakness to magic.” Eric shivered. The distant sounds of the restaurant were like a white noise in the background. 

“They all appeared the same, except for one. A young boy in his early teens.” Alois’s eyebrows were steadily disappearing into his hairline.

“He was with these creatures? Was he their prisoner?” The vampire leant forward, his hand steepled in front of him on the elegant tablecloth. 

“It was difficult for my men to say. He didn’t react. They said he looked pale, unresponsive. He stood near the creatures and once a truck turned down the street with it head lights on, the boy vanished along with them. He may not have been identified if it not for Bella casting a fire spell in order to light the ally way. She said the boy swept the fire aside like it was nothing. The fire was extinguished before she could even finish the incantation. If the truck had not come by when it had… I’m not certain my fae would have survived.” Their conversation was interrupted when a waiter came over with a mixed plate of breads, meats and dips. Arwen frowned but before he could rebuke the man, Alois cut in.

“Thank you kindly. Eric, eat something. You look dead in your seat.” The vampire said. He had obviously ordered the food before they sat down. Eric’s stomach was in heavy knots. He still felt queasy from the scotch. The vampire pressed the platter towards him and he reluctantly took some bread. He stared absently into a bowl of pink dip decorated on top with an orchid. 

“That doesn’t really prove anything though, does it? Could the boy have just been an elemental mage or some other fire touched super nat?” He asked, refusing to let his hopes rise. Arwen shook his head.

“It is highly unlikely. Bella is over four hundred years old. As a sun fae, her fire magic is exceptionally powerful. It isn’t something that any human mage could cast aside. Especially a child. It drastically limits just what that boy could have been.” Alois took a small piece of bread, dipped it into the elegant swirl of pink and gently pressed it into Eric’s hand. Eric winced but put the bread in his mouth. He chewed, hardly tasting it but his throat was so tight that he couldn’t swallow. The vampire handed him a glass of water which he drank gratefully, trying not to choke. 

“He was the right age. The right description. This brings us back to what we discussed the other day. The corpse that was found in your old house did not match the body of your brother.” Arwen said. Eric flinched. He still couldn’t think of Patrick as a corpse. 

“Very tactful.” Alois said dryly, seeing Eric’s face.

“We aren’t here to pander to the boy’s tender feelings.” Soora snapped impatiently. 

“And what exactly are you here for?” Eric put his glass down on the table and met Soora’s icy stare. 

“He wants to test your skills against these creatures.” Alois said. Silence fell over the little group again.

“Why?” Eric hissed. The smirk the vampire showed revealed one long fang.

“Oh, I think the fae are finally starting to cotton on.” Alois purred. Arwen kept his face blank though the line of his jaw tightened just a little. 

“Cotton on to what?” Eric was getting sick of this. The master vampire’s smile turned oily. He picked a non-existent speck of dust from his wrist cuff. The expensive material looked overly vibrant against the chalk white skin and blue veins. 

“I’ll just ask one question. Then perhaps young Eric can figure it out. Does the magic of fae work against other fae?” The fae king said nothing for the longest time, Eric thought he just wouldn’t say anything at all. Then, finally, the man gave a slight shake of his head.

“No. It doesn’t.” 

A waiter came over to the group and refilled their water glasses. No one said anything as he poured the water and left. The poor man looked rather uncomfortable. He didn’t even bother to ask if they wanted anything else. Eric stared into his water, watching the condensation collect on to the sides of the glass. He looked up, his own eyes widening slightly as he met Alois’s black irises. 

“…when one of my guards attempted to engage, his magic had no effect.”

“They aren’t killing the kids because… what, they are the kids?” He rasped. Alea looked from her king to Eric, shock on her elegant features. 

“Sire?” She asked. Arwen dipped his head.

“We have no proof of that.” He said. Alois chuckled. 

“Don’t we? The children that were taken were never recovered in any form. Perhaps these creatures can’t reproduce any other way. If they are parasitic in nature, they may only be able to reproduce using the offspring of others. The ones who attacked your men were not affected by you magic just as the creatures who attacked my fledglings were immune to compulsion.” The master vampire rolled up a piece of prosciutto and handed it to Eric, looking at him pointedly. To stunned to speak, Eric ate it without complaint. He felt like his brain had ground to a halt.

“It is also why they were so persistent with you. Whilst other species are suitable, if they gain all the powers and abilities of the overtaken host, then a Phoenix would be an ideal target. Phoenix fire is deadly to many powerful supernatural creatures. If they couldn’t infect you then perhaps it would be in their interest to kill you regardless.” He said. 

The world seemed to have stopped. Eric swallowed hard. His lungs felt restricted. A thin pale seam of smoke escaped his curled fingers. Alois reached out a hand and placed in on his knee. The vampire's touch was cool and Eric used it to steady himself, taking a slow breath in. 

“So, what? Their plan is to use our own kin against us?” Soora growled.

“It seems like a pretty good plan.” Eric whispered. They glanced over at him.

“How so?” Soora grunted. The smile that spread on Eric’s face felt tight. It wasn’t a happy smile.

“Because you all hate each other. It might be hard to judge just how intelligent they are but it’s probably safe to say they could surmise that you would never fight each other’s battles or ask for help.” 

“Correct.” Alois said. He appeared to be enjoying this. Eric wasn’t. Neither were the fae. Alea was just gaping at them, her mouth partly open. Arwen had closed his eyes, his head tilted. The expression almost looked like defeat. 

“So, I’m your… what? Your neutral party?”

“No love, you’re the most effective weapon dear Arwen had access to. Of course, these creatures have their own weapon now. Your brother may not yet be one of those creatures but he sounds as though he is well on his way.” Alois purred. Eric jumped to his feet, fists clenched.

“I’m am not a weapon.” He snarled. 

“Sit down.” Soora hissed. There was a lull in the quiet conversation around them. A woman in a pastel blue dress was glancing their way, her wine glass paused partway to her lips. 

“Trying to turn him against us will not make him anymore likely to fight for you instead.” Arwen said quietly. 

“You never know. It’s worth a try. At least I have never lied to him. He’s knows very well that I’m trying to use him. Only difference is, I don’t sugar coat my desires.” The vampire said comfortably, leaning back in his chair. Eric felt bile rising in the back of his throat.

“Fuck. You. Both.” He hissed back.

“You all deserve each other.” He made to leave, trying to get around Alois in the booth.

“And what about your brother, does he deserve us too?” Eric froze. He looked back. Alois observed him coolly, his black eyes glittering in the low light of the restaurant. Arwen sighed, moving the elegantly folded napkin off to one side so he could lean on the table.

“Eric, I won’t lie to you. We do want to use your skills to try and kill these things.” The king said. He raised a hand, cutting off Eric before he could reply.

“But we also were not going to ask this of you without offering anything in return.” Alois gave an inelegant snort. The fae ignored him.

“You won’t be able to capture your brother on your own. Not without hurting him.” Arwen murmured. The fight seemed to leech from Eric’s frame. When the vampire placed a hand on his arm and gently tugged him back to his seat, Eric went without a fight. 

“He might recognise me. He wouldn’t hurt me.” He rasped. He hated the look of pity on Arwen’s fine features. His insides twisted at the sight of the soften eyes.

“You can’t know that. It’s been years. We have no idea what those things could have done to his mind in that time. And if he does recognise you? Those creatures won’t allow you to take him without a fight. Not when they did so much to take him in the first place.” Arwen said, his voice oddly gentle. Eric slumped. He took a sip from his water glass, if only to give his hands something to do. 

“Do you think… was he the target that night? Or did they want us both?” Eric whispered. 

“It’s hard to say.”

“If I had been there…”

“You would have been captured and we wouldn’t be sitting here.” Alois said coldly. 

“Focusing on a past that never was does not help nor does it provide any comfort.” The vampire picked up another piece of bread and reached for the small bowl of pate. 

“What is important now, is what you decide to do next.” He placed the bread to his pale lips and took a bite. Eric watched the master vampire eat. 

“Is there any point in asking either you of what you think I should do?” Eric asked dryly.

“I have the nest’s location. I also have access to a wider pool of knowledge then your fae friends.” 

“Funny, last I checked, vampires can’t use magic. How do you intend to capture the young phoenix? A net?” Alea sneered. Arwen held up his hand again before she could say more. 

“I don’t enjoy admitting this but… It appears that it will take the all of us to kill these things and bring your brother back.” The fae king said. He definitely sounded unhappy. 

The party of five lapsed into silence again. 

“Fine.” Eric said.

“If it gets me my brother back. I’ll help however I can.” He added. 

“Excellent! Anyone up for a Champaign?” Alois stood happily. He was met with four sets of glaring eyes.

“Just a thought.”

\--

Eric collapsed onto the lumpy motel bed. It was late but he couldn’t sleep, everything from the night going around and around in his head. He groaned, curling into a ball. What the fuck had he gotten himself into!?

“Honestly, was this truly the best accommodation you could find?” Eric sat bolt upright, his heart nearly stopping in his chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here!?” Eric shouted. The unnaturally still form of the master vampire was leaning against the bedroom door frame. Alois smirked.

“The night manager invited me in. I don’t need an invitation for the individual room. It doesn’t belong to you. It’s a motel. Your lovely little sigils stop people from tracking your whereabouts but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t just follow you in person.” He said smugly. Eric glared daggers at him.

“I can still torch you.” He snapped. Alois slid off the doorframe and crept closer. Eric shivered, his body tingling with warning. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the man halted in front of him.

“You could. Then, you would lose control, burn down this building and cause the deaths of over a dozen civilians. He doesn’t know, does he? Just how little control you have over your abilities.” The vampire said. Eric launched to his feet; fists clenched. 

“It’s not your fault. You were never taught. You lost the only people who could teach you.” The words came with such a degree of gentleness and pity that Eric’s body lost its rigidity anger had given it.

“I’m doing the best I can.” He murmured. 

“May I sit with you on your… gods they call this a bed?” The vampire glanced at the lumpy mattress with open distaste. Eric smiled weakly.

“Not up to your expectations?” He mocked. He sat back down. After a moment or two Alois gave an exaugurated sigh and sat beside him. The bed was so small that Eric ended up shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Did you get enough to eat?” the vampire asked. Eric snorted.

“Yes mother.” He said. He looked across and froze into stillness again and the master vampire reached up to tuck a knuckle under his chin. 

“You could come back with me Marcus. Right now. You’ll never have to be alone again.” The words were a knife to the chest. Eric couldn’t hold the black gaze and he had to look away. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t fall asleep with his music playing just to drive away the loneliness that had dogged him for years.

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s not who I am.” Alois let him go and Eric wasn’t happy with just how much that lack of contact broke something in him. 

“You can still come with me.” the vampire murmured, his British lilt thickening. 

“And all it would cost me is a pound of flesh.” Eric said with a tired smile.

“A pound of blood would be more accurate. Not the naïve little boy you once were.”

“No one ever wants to help anyone for nothing.” Eric sighed.

“Would it be such a terrible exchange?” The vampire asked. The phoenix hunched his shoulders. Eric was tired, mentally and psychically.

“Should I ask for an interview with your blood donors? What would they tell me? Are they all still capable of talking?” Eric challenged. He tried to tell himself it was anger rather than disappointment he felt when the master vampire shook his head.

“I didn’t think so.” He said. He rubbed at his eyes.

“I think you should go now.” He added. To his credit, the man stood fluently without argument. Alois gave a small sweeping bow, elegant and formal. When he reached out a hand to gently grip Eric’s shoulder, the boy didn’t pull away.

“You know how to reach me love. For what it’s worth, I think you do need to belong to someone. A bird in a cage may not be free but it is at least safe from the foxes outside.” He murmured. Eric shivered but couldn’t bring himself to look up from his own clasped hands. The vampire stepped away. Eric heard the door open and close and then he was alone. 

He swallowed heavily and tried to ignore the anxiety he felt being along again, already knowing that he was probably going to sleep with the light on to chase away those nightmares of boneless, black figures reaching for out of the dark.

\--

END

\--


	9. An Uneasy Truce

Chapter Nine

An Uneasy Truce

\--

Eric had eventually fallen asleep only to jerk awake in the very early morning soaked in cold sweat. He had the usual nightmares, only now one of the creatures had his brother’s face. Dean, still young in Eric’s mind, calling out to him as the black ooze enfolded his body, sliding up his nostrils and pushing his eyeballs out of their sockets.

Eric didn’t even bother trying to get back to sleep. He pulled on his clothes and departed the motel. The sun was just coming up over the city skyline. For the briefest moment, he wondered where Alois was. Did he have a den here somewhere in the city or had he needed to travel fast back to where ever it was he came from? Then Eric wondered why he cared. Even a day of staying in a motel had drudged up memories of his years in and out of places that catered more to coach roaches then it did human beings. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He itched.

Eric pulled his shoes on with a low groan. His eyes were prickly and a little red. He was eager to get home. As he packed his toothbrush and soap back into his small carry bag and stuffed the lot in his back pack, he imagined the gold sunlight washing into the combined kitchen and lounge room. He could imagine the warm scent of ocean air. He grabbed an eraser and set to rubbing out the rune he had pencilled on the wall. As his pulled back the tatty sun-bleached curtain he paused.

Was it his imagination or did the protection rune look warped? He ran a thumb across the sigil. It was warm to the touch. Definitely disturbed now, Eric pressed his palm against the peeling paint of the wall. The wall itself was cool, damp even. An uneasy prickle settled into the back of his neck. He quickly rubbed out the little symbol and resettled the curtain, more anxious than ever to get the hell out of this city. 

That old urge was thrumming in his blood. The urge to run. He zipped up his backpack, settled him jacket, grabbed his helmet and threw open the door. He was not pleased to see who was standing on the other side of it.

"Can I buy you breakfast?" Arwen asked. Eric fought the urge to groan out loud. The fae king was wearing what he probably considered a low key outfit. Unfortunately the tightly pressed white jeans, pale grey button shirt and long platinum hair still made him stand out like a freakin Christmas tree. 

"I really don't think there is anywhere around here that would serve anything that could be called real food." Eric said bluntly, pushing passed the man to step out into the hallway. Arwen's eyes followed a small brown cockroach as it invited itself under the door of the now vacant room.

"Agreed. We still need to discuss last night." He said. He didn't take the hint from Eric cold dispersion and followed him out to the foyer. Eric dropped the key off to a bored looking girl who didn't look up from her phone as she took the key back. 

"What part would you like to talk about exactly? The part where you followed me here or the part where you intended to blackmail me with my little brother to become a personal weapon for you to point and aim?" Eric hissed under his breathe. The smell of wet garbage filled the air as they strode outside and towards the grungy little parking lot. 

"I know that you are upset. Loosing family in any sense is painful. I know how you-" Eric whipped around midstride, meeting the man chest on.

"Don't." He spat, glaring up into the gorgeous unnatural green eyes.

"Just don't. I do not want to hear how you know how I feel." He snarled, trying to keep a lid of his fire that was burbling just below his skin. He was not going to lose control in a public parking lot. He strode over to his motorcycle and threw one leg over. If the fae was offended, he didn't look it. Instead he let out a long breathe. 

"It's been six years since I lost my son to those creatures. I knew he was to young. I wanted him to train more but he was insistent. I didn't know then, didn't suspect what they were, what they could do to him." Eric froze, his keys in his hand.

"I couldn't help but wonder, every time we tracked them down, was he there? Was he one of those creatures? Would I recognise him? Would he recognise me?" Arwen's voice was barely above a whisper. Eric's shoulders sagged a little. 

"I would say that I'm sorry for your loss but phrases don't ever bring them back so I'll save you the empty words." Eric said bitterly. Arwen nodded; his expression sombre. He really wished the fae hadn't told him that story. He felt a twinge of guilt now and that was probably the point. 

"I appreciate that. Eric, the fae are some of the most powerful magic users in this realm. We can train that part of you, help you prepare. If you intend to fight these things and take back your brother, we can help you prepare for that." 

"I'm not an idiot. I know I can't do it alone" Eric muttered. 

"And you don't have to. I can't imagine you have had a lot of lessons in magic in the last few years." The king said questioningly. Eric shrugged.

"I have in places. There were a few people who helped to teach me over the years, some warlocks, a few elemental mages, a witch."

"Not very consistent then. Not particularly strong spells." Arwen surmised. Eric winced but nodded.

"Yes. Most of the stronger sigils are ones I've taught myself through the few books I've collected. I would... I would like to learn others." He muttered, thinking of his warped little pencil scratching. 

"Then we can organise it. Three times a week to start with." Eric blinked.

"Excuse me?" He spluttered. Arwen looked unbothered.

"Three times a week to grasp the basics. We will start tomorrow afternoon." With that the fae king turned and walked away.

"Now wait a bloody minute! I have a job you know! Hey!" Eric hobbled as he clumsily dismounted his bike. He swung around the corner and swore loudly as he realised that the fae had already disappeared. 

\--

"Good trip was it?" Bec called as Eric eased the motorbike back into its parking space. He rolled his shoulder and stretched his legs, feeling pins and needles in his toes. He hadn't stopped once on his ride back. Partly out of a desire to put as much space between him and that place as possible but also partly to try and ease the constant feeling of dread that had followed him everywhere since the night before. His stomach rumbled with hunger and his shoulder clunked uncomfortably from the weight of his backpack.

"Not particularly. Don't suppose the kitchen is still open?" He asked hopefully as he climbed stiffly off. Bec snorted.

"Nah. Breakfast ended about half an hour ago. In another hour or two, we'll be starting the lunch menu though." She said, eyeing his dishevelled appearance with a raised eyebrow.

"That's okay. I might go next door and grab something." He said, thinking wistfully of the fish and chip shop five minutes down the road. It was owned by a particularly nice couple. They often chucked in an extra potato scallop or spring roll. He could do with some junk food after the bullshit that was last night. 

"Jeez, you stink." Bec said, poking him in the ribs as he made to walk past her. Eric ducked his head and sniffed.

"Hmm, true that. Okay, shower first, then all of the greasy food I can stomach." He grumbled. Bec laughed.

"Wow. Family trips really aren't good for you." She laughed.

"No kidding." He said mulishly before clomping for the stairs that led to his apartment, Bec's sniggers following him most of the way.

He breathed in deeply as he stepped inside. A deep sense of calm washed over him at the soft blue and gold tones that greeted him. His space, clean and warm and safe. He dumped his backpack at the door and went straight for the sliding door, opening it wide to let in the late morning air. 

He gave his bed a rather longing look but didn’t dare go near it in his current state. He stunk and his clothes were sticking to him in an all too familiar way. He had fallen asleep in the clothes he had worn to the pub and they smelt of sweat and smoke. He wanted a shower. He toed off his steel capped boots and put them along with his helmet and riding jacket in the cupboard before head into the bathroom. 

Sunlight poured in warm and gilded. Pete, or rather, Pete's wife had insisted on giving him a house warming present which turned out to be a rather large fluffy African Violet. The plant was doing ridiculously well in Eric's bathroom and had come out all over in soft pale purple flowers. 

He glanced at it as he stripped out of his clothes. He felt a slight pang in his chest. His mother would have liked it. Purple was her favourite colour. He shook his head roughly and climbed into the shower. As the hot water pounded down on his back, he thought about all he had heard the night before and what he had agreed to. His brain seemed to be struggling. The idea that Dean could be alive was still outside his comprehension. In a way he doubted he would believe it until he saw his little brother with his own eyes.

Then his mind swept to Alois and he groaned, resting his head against the tiles. He had put himself back on the master vampire's radar. The man gave off the pretence of understand and wanting to help but everything that man offered was two handed. He wanted to take from Eric just as much as he as willing to help. Eric scrubbed roughly at his arms. He watched the suds bubble around the drain. 

He had been so determined that he would get stronger. He had vowed to himself all those years ago that he would become something the shadows would fear. This was his chance to become stronger than he ever could on his own. If that meant taking help from fae and vampires then so be it. He couldn't help but thinking as he stepped out of the shower that it was a little like selling his soul to the devil. Then he gave a small bitter laugh. What was a soul worth really? It wasn't as though he had much left to lose anyway.

As he grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and looked around for his phone his gaze drifted over his usual protective sigil, partially obscured by the curtain. He froze, remembered the warped little symbol in the motel. He strode over. Pulling back the curtain, he stared hard at the protection ward, letting his third eye scan it for any single imperfection. It was still active, humming quietly in the base of his skull. It wasn't damaged in any way, just the way he had left it. Sighing with relief, he let the soft curtain fall back into place.

Maybe it had been his own exhaustion that had caused the warping in that ward last night. Or maybe Alois had caused it when he entered the room. Surely the aura of a master vampire had to be pretty powerful. Still feeling a little uneasy, he padded about his apartment, peering at the other runes he had meticulously painted into the wall’s patterns. They were all intact. 

Feeling a bit better, he went over to his little kitchenette. Now that he had finished his hot shower, his muscles were starting to cool down. His joints ached from the long ride and the sleepless night. He threw on a few pieces of toast and poured himself some juice. He would go down later. As he waited, he closed his eyes listening to the soft distant sound of the ocean waves rolling in and out against the shore line. 

He ate his rather late breakfast and washed him hands before padding back to his bed and collapsed down onto it. It was strange the way that travelling made a person tired. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth and scent of ocean air calm his rattled nerves. Before long, he was asleep. 

He woke with a jerk at the sound of knocking on his door. He sat up groggily, He grabbed his phone and glanced at the screen. It was three in the afternoon. His stomach rumbled with hunger again. The knock came again.

"Coming." He called. He stood and went for the front door. He swung it open. 

The young man in front of him looked like he was Eric's age or maybe a year or two younger. He had a heart shaped face and rather large hazel eyes flecked with splatters of vivid green. His hair was shoulder length and the same colour as strong coffee. He was shorter than Eric and looked up at him with an expression of awe. A nervous hand tucked the long hair back behind a pointed ear. The boy was a fae. He continued to stare; pink lips parted slightly. It was then that Eric realised that he was still only wearing a pair of jeans that were sitting low on his hips. Eric frowned. 

"Um, can I help you?" He tried. The boy's cheeks went pink.

"I'm sorry. My name is Beau. I've been sent as a correspondence from his Majesty." The fae said. Eric blinked.

"Arwen isn't coming?" He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not. Beau looked even more amazed.

"N..no. The king has urgent matters to attend to. I've been sent to help begin your lessons." 

"I thought that wasn't starting until tomorrow?" Eric muttered, a little annoyed. 

"They are but the king wanted me to meet you and discuss what you have already covered so we can hit the ground running as they say." The fae said, flushing harder still. 

"Well we are going to have to start over food. I'm starving." Eric said. He took a step forward and the little fae stumbled back to get out of his way.

"I, you, um. Are you going to, um?" The boy waved an embarrassed hand at his torso. Eric raised an eyebrow. He was secretly enjoying this just a little. The fae was kind of cute. 

"This is a coastal town and its hot. People usually walk around in a lot less." He said, closing his apartment door behind him with a click.

“I don't suppose you’re going to tell me how you knew which one was my apartment was mine?" He asked as he headed for the stairs. Beau trailed after him.

“It wasn’t to difficult to work out. The nice man at the desk told me after some small persuasion.” He said the word ‘persuasion’ with air quotes. The next moment, the kid was pinned to the outer wall of the apartment building, his eyes wide.

“Let me be absolutely clear. You do not ever use magic on anyone here, do you understand?” Smoke coiled from the fist that pinned the young fae. Beau stared up into the blazing gold eyes with shock.

“But the king said-”

“I do not care what your king said.” Eric hissed; his voice deadly.

“Do it again and this treaty is done.” The boy’s face went very pale.

“I understand.” He squeaked. Eric let him go. He was going to have a few words for Arwen when he saw the man again. He stomped off, the young fae trailing cautiously behind him. 

Thankfully the little restaurant was reasonably busy with a few loud families stopping in for afternoon tea and milkshakes so Eric was able to pick a table out of the way where they wouldn’t be overheard. It had warmed into a lovely afternoon; the blue sky dotted every now and again with big fluffy white clouds. 

“Do you want anything?” Eric grumbled. Beau shook his head.

“No thank you.”

“Then wait here.” Eric left him and went to the counter to order a large bowl of wedges and coffee. He kept glancing back, half expecting the other to vanish if left alone for to long. He came back to the table and sat down, his stomach rumbling quietly. Beau wouldn’t stop staring. Eric scratched at his ear, uncomfortable.

“Well?” He prompted.

“Urhm, yes. His majesty has assigned me to you in a kind of mediator role. I will answer what questions you have and do my best to relay messages. I will also be overseeing your training with Bella.” Eric frowned, thinking back to the conversation they had last night.

“She’s the sun fae right?” He said, remembering. Beau nodded.

“Yes. Obviously, it would be best to have you trained by another phoenix or dragon but that isn’t really an option. Sun fae are the next species with a powerful connection to fire. You will also need to choose a day for your lesson with Beren.” The discussion broke off as Sophie came over with the food. She beamed brightly, looking curiously at the Beau. Eric was grateful when she didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure how he was going to bring up all of this with his friends. 

“Next you will need to select a day to have training with Beren.” The fae added once she had gone. Eric frowned.

“Who's Beren?" He asked. Beau made a point to let his gaze wander towards the outdoor pool. 

"He's one of his majesty's best soldiers." He said lightly. Eric frowned.

"What do I need lessons with him for?" The fae looked back at him in surprise.

"To learn how to fight of course." 

"I'm already learning how to fight." Eric said waspishly. He enjoyed his karate lessons and he wasn't giving them up.

"I'm sure you are but the king would prefer you learn from a proper instructor." The look of total disregard and unconcern on the fae's face was really starting to rub Eric up the wrong way.

"Proper instructor?" He snapped. Beau nodded, completely missing the annoyed expression.

"Yes. Beren will make sure you are able to defend yourself." The fae said lightly. Eric glared.

"Your food is getting cold." Beau said helpfully. 

"We will also need to work out sleeping arrangements." He added thoughtfully as Eric picked at his bowl of wedges. Eric frowned.

"What?”

“For me, I mean. I suppose I could sleep on your couch." Eric dropped the wedge he had been holding.

"You are not sleeping in my apartment." He said sternly. Beau blinked.

"Of course, I am. The king has ordered me not to leave your side." Eric stared at the young fae, appalled. 

"I do not need a baby sitter! Especially one who looks barely older than a baby himself." Eric snapped. Beau gave a little huff.

"I'll have you know I am much older than I look."

"I don't care! And you can tell his royal pain in the ass that I am not going to let myself be followed around everywhere!" Beau looked both panicked and shocked.

"I can't tell him that! Besides, I have never failed to carry out my orders and my orders are to make sure your protected."

"I have done perfectly well on my own without you or your king." Eric growled in a low voice. He could the prickling change as his eyes turned from warm brown to burning gold. Beau's own eyes widened. 

"Are you sure he isn't having you doggy guard me to ensure that Alois doesn't pay me a visit?" He added, watching with satisfaction as Beau small nose wrinkled at the sound of the vampire's name. 

"The king would prefer you to have as little contact as possible with the vampire until absolutely necessary." Beau said primly, his lip curling at the word vampire.

"Again, I really don't care what Arwen wants. He is your king, not mine. Alois won't give any information to anyone but me." Eric said flatly. Beau sat dumbstruck in the little wooden chair. He clearly didn't know what to say.

"You are not what I expected at all." He said finally. Eric snorted.

"I get that a lot. What exactly were you expecting?"

"The phoenix are an ancient and noble race of people. There was a time when they lived an almost Buddha like existence, living a simple and gentle life. You're..." He looked at the other's dark expression and faltered.

"... a little rough around the edges." Beau finished lamely. Eric could tell he wanted to say more but had changed tack.

"It tends to happen when you watch your life burn to ash and spend years living off garbage with the expectancy of being murdered every night." Eric said. One of the napkins on the table was starting to curls at the edges. Beau shifted uncomfortably in his seat but tried to put on what he clearly thought was a kind smile.

"Well, then, surely you would welcome the company? Someone to watch your back as they say."

"I don't." Eric said flatly. The fae’s smile faltered. 

"And I don't know you. You could just as easily stab me in the back as watch it." Eric stood, intending to take what was left of his wedges and coffee back up to his room. Beau stood too. 

"But surely you can see the importance of working together." The boy wheedled as he tailed after him. Eric walked a little faster, quickly slinking between two people. Unfortunately, the fae caught up with him as he reached the stairs. 

"So tomorrow, around ten, we will collect you for your lessons." He said hopefully. Eric rolled his eyes.

"Sounds great." He said sarcastically. He fished out his card and swiped the door. It opened with a familiar chime. He stepped inside.

"Excellent, so as for where I'm going to sleep..."

"Feel free. Sunseeker Cove is a holiday resort after all. Many vacant rooms still." He took a rather childish amount of satisfaction in closing the heavy door before the fae had a chance to respond.

\--

END

\--


	10. Trial By Fire

\--

Chapter Ten  
Trail by Fire

\--

It was with great trepidation that Eric got dressed the next day. Not really knowing what they would be doing, he chose loose sweat pants and an old shirt. He had slept decently though his dreams featured a slim figure with pale skin and long fingers. The dreams hadn’t been bad or good, just drifting shadows. Half seen places and people.

When he had woken, he had lane in bed staring out the window at the rolling sea. As the sun crept in, he tried to imagine what Dean might look like now. Would his hair be longer now? Would he be taller than Eric? Wider? 

His thoughts drifted to what he would have to do. This was a real opportunity to learn proper magic. It was an opportunity to have something he had only ever dreamed of, to get his family back. or at least a part of it.

He had a light breakfast. He had missed his early morning run but wasn’t particularly in the mood for one anyway. His mood was furthered soured when he opened the door to find Beau beaming up at him from the other side of the door.

“Good morning.” The fae said brightly. Eric fought the urge to grind his teeth.

“Please tell me you haven’t been standing there all night.” Yeah, that was a creepy image. Beau frowned. 

“Of course not.” 

Beau turned and flounced down the stairs. Eric strongly debated going back inside for half a moment before following. 

At the bottom of the stairs were two severe looking people. One was a tall woman with flaming red and orange hair in a high thick ponytail. Her skin was a strange glowing amber and her face was softly oval and quite pretty. The other was a heavy-set man with scars criss-crossing his exposed arms and left cheek, like something with many, many fingers had once tried to claw out his eye...

Both of them had the familiar sparkling eyes and delicate pointed ears. The male fae's eyes looked Eric up and down with open displeasure whilst the woman kept her face blank. 

"Beren and Bella I presume?" Eric said, trying to keep his voice polite rather than annoyed. The woman nodded but the man stayed looking grumpy and stoic. 

"This way please." Beau said cheerfully, apparently immune to the frosty atmosphere that was growing in the little group. He led the way down the outside staff footpath. They walked right around to the back of the apartment complex to the door marked 'Laundry'. Beau opened it and waved to Eric.

"Inside please, try to keep your balance." He said. Utterly perplexed, Eric stepped forward into the laundry room. 

Except it didn't stay the laundry room.

He caught the briefest glimpse of several neat stacks of white towels and boxes of washing detergent before his foot hit the ground and his vision tunnelled. It was like slipping on a banana peel, his world seeming to turn up-side-down and over again. For several seconds he was bafflingly nowhere, his eyes stinging with the force of the wind and his arms flailing.

Then his foot hit the ground and he staggered, pinwheeling forward as he tried to regain his equilibrium. He stood panting for several second, his heart rabbiting hard in his chest as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden odd gloom. He felt slightly like he'd just been thrown down a particularly violent water slide that wasn't quite up to code. He shook himself and looked around.

His first thought was that he was somewhere underground. The world around him was muted and dark, a huge earthy cavern arched overhead. The walls were oddly textured, a constant mix of smooth then bumpy. Eric realised that this was caused by enormous tree roots, curling and tangling in elegant lines to form pillars and doorways. The only light came from bioluminescent plants of soft blue, pink and green spread out on the walls and along the floor's edging. He bent to examine one. It looked a little like a tulip with spectacularly bright petals. 

"Don't touch that." Came a rough voice. Beren had just appeared beside him. He glared down at him. Eric stood back up quickly, glancing down at the flower distrustfully.

"Why? Is it poisonous?"

"No but they are delicate. They don't apricate being crushed or burnt." Beren sneered. He stalked off. Beau appeared next. 

"Cheerful chap." Eric grumbled. Beau smiled.

"He'll warm up to you." He said. Eric doubted that very much. Bella went passed without a word. Eric followed behind.

This place was like something out of a cartoon. He felt a strong pang of sadness and regret as he thought of how much Dean would have loved it. It seemed a long time ago that he could have looked at this place and felt nothing but wonder and amazement and now this place was just a means to an end.

Still. The glowing flowers, fungi and moss were very pretty. The flowers all turned their petals towards them as they walked down the corridor, guiding them. Their footsteps were muffled on the earth floor. It was very quiet in this place. It made Eric feel distinctly uncomfortable. The magic in the air was so thick it was like breathing in hot steam from a sauna. He had never experienced anything like it before. He shivered even though it was quite warm in the tunnel. 

They walked for what felt like a half an hour, the pathway forking and changing directions many times. Twice, the tunnel turned into a bridge that passed over ravines or little houses. He had paused, looking down at several pretty little cottage like buildings, the glowing flowers covering the roofs. They were oddly place without, it seemed to Eric, any rhythm or reason. Some cottage faced each other, other were perched on the edge of rock walls. The front door opened out in a seven-foot drop. It looked weirdly impractical. 

“This way.” Beau had called over his shoulder. Eric walked on with the creeping sensation that eyes had been looking back at through the cottage windows. Finally, the tunnel opened out into a large circular room. He feet sank into soft sand. It looked like a sparring arena, the walls showing many different worn looking wooden weapons. He starred at the wooden swords with a faint sense of amusement. 

“Really?” He asked before he could stop himself. Beren’s scowl deepened.

“Don’t worry, the swords take a lifetime of learning and I have no interest in wasting mine trying to teach it to you.” He growled. Eric bit back a retort. 

“Your lessons will be in this room until you’ve leant enough for more practical outside scenarios.” Bella said. She sat down on carved wooden bench. Her hands folded in her lap. 

“The creatures we are fighting will always go for the killing blow. I’ll will be teaching you to block, dodge and strike. Dodging must always take precedence over blocking. Any contact with these things at all could risk infection or injury.” Beren barked. Eric nodded. This wasn’t wholly dissimilar to his karate. 

"For the most part, your fire will be your greatest weapon. Though we don't know for sure, it is most likely the reason for why you have been targeted. Phoenix fire is one of the world's rarest substances." Beren grunted.

"That doesn't mean that you are allowed to be sloppy and unco-ordinated." Eric couldn't help but bristle at this.

"You have never even seen me fight." He snapped before he could help himself. There was a split second when the man moved, his shoulder dropped, right side shifting forward and then Eric was moving. He had been wrong. There was a big difference between his karate class and this. The difference being that even though he sparred the other students in his dojo, none of them had ever really tried to take his damn head off. 

He wasn't quite fast enough to block the punch properly though his forearm absorbed most of the blow. Even moving with the punch, pain radiated up his arm, leaving his fingers tingling. He swung his leg up for a kick but he had also never trained in shoes before and they sank oddly into the sand. The front kick was sloppy at best and Beren brought his elbow down on Eric's shin. Pain exploded along the bone. He bit back a yelp as he staggered back again.

"Reality a bit different from your little martial arts club?" Beren sneered. He shouldn't have let his temper get the better of him. He really shouldn't have. Flames scorched across the sands in a wall of heat, forcing Beren to back away, alarm on the staunch face. 

"Yes." Eric spat, still winded. His anger fed the fire that was creeping across the ground towards the battle worn fae. The man wanted realistic? He would give him realistic!

“That is enough! You use your fire like a badly-behaved child.” A woman’s voice cut through the warm air like a whip crack. 

“You have no qualms with unleashing your magic and you have only the barest idea of how to call it back. I’m astonished you haven’t killed someone yet.” Said Bella the sun fae. 

She had risen off the carved bench and stood with her elegant chin up. Her gaze was hawklike. Eric’s anger at Beren morphed into a mixture of shame and discomfort. Her words were more accurate then he would have liked. It was true that for the last two years he had done little else but learning how to actually conjure his phoenix fire to defend himself that he hadn’t really mastered extinguishing or manipulation of it under pressure. That wasn’t easy to practice by himself. The memory of what had nearly happened at the pub only a few nights ago, quelled his remaining anger. 

The flames withered and died away. Beren grimaced as he straightened up. He was unhurt but likely hadn’t appreciated the scare. To Eric’s surprise, the older man cringed back as Bella turned her strict gaze onto him.

“And antagonising the boy is hardly going to teach him to anything other than to lash out. He’s here because he has no one else.” She snapped. The male seemed to consider this for a moment before giving her a curt nod. Eric couldn’t help but feel a small glimmer of gratefulness towards the woman.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. She turned back to him.

“Forgiven but I am not here to have my time wasted. Our orders are to teach you, so you will do what we say, when we say it.” Eric nodded reluctantly.

“Good. Then come here. It is obvious you have no problem with calling out your inner fire but do you truly understand what it is?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” He asked, frowning. As in the chemical composition or its scientific definition? Why on earth did that matter? Bella held out a hand. It was tiny at first, barely the size of match head. Her lips didn't move but as he watched, a little dancing flame grew in her palm.

"There is this belief that the elements are separate, that it is impossible to master more than one element at a time. The fae know differently. As do your own people. Fire is more than burning. It is more than destruction. It is warmth and light." She moved her hands apart, the ball of flame growing until it the size of a beach ball. The walls were filled with its softly glittering light. The plants seemed to wiggle in response. Eric noticed that it didn't seemed to roar, hot and ferocious like his own. It was almost slow moving, control and warm. 

"Fire is not so dissimilar to water. It too, has a push and pull like the tide. It grows and shrinks, breathes in and out." As she spoke the fire grew larger, then small, then larger again. He watched it. Bella held it up to him. Feeling oddly like he was reaching for a child or small animal; Eric carefully took it from her. He felt it flutter against his fingertips and carefully fed it more heat until it grumbled quietly in his palms. She watched him carefully, studying his face with an unreadable expression. Beren was looking surely and bored.

"The destructive force of fire it what most fire mages find attractive. It can be difficult to see it as more. This is where Phoenix often have an advantage. You are born in fire and in fire you return." Eric nearly let the flames die as his head snapped up. 

"What do you mean? That's just a fable." He said. Bella looked at him in surprise. 

"More than a fable. A fire is always born at the death of a phoenix. It is true, you aren't reborn in those flames but it is in phoenix fire that your remains return to ash." She said, frowning.

"I didn't know that." He murmured. There had been a lot of thing he had never been able to ask his parents about. They had thought there would time when the boys were a little older. A horrible thought occurred to him as he stood there.

"Does that mean that the house fire was caused by my parent's death?" He asked. He had thought originally that the fire might have been created as part of some battle or maybe to cover up the attack. He had no idea that the inferno might have happened much later, caused after the phoenix fire had been released in death. Bella shook her head, her brow pinched.

"Does that matter?" She asked gently.

"The list that Arwen gave me, a lot of those people died in house fires too. Too many to be a coincidence. I thought that was just what those creatures did but..." He said, his thoughts now racing. The two fae looked at each other.

"That list was current when it was given to you. When did these people die?" Beren said, suddenly looking far more interested in the conversation. Eric shook his head, trying to think.

"I started noticing it after I tried tracking them down. They were all fairly recent." 

"What is that you are thinking?" Bella murmured. Eric met her gaze with his own worried eyes.

"My brother Dean. You don't think those things used him to kill all those people, do you?"

"Did these house fire occur before or after you brother was taken?" She asked. There was a stunned silence. Eric worried his bottom lip with his teeth until he tasted blood and had to stop.

"I...I'm not sure. I think after."

"These creatures have been operating quietly for a long time. If they could, they might do to erase the evidence. Phoenix fire can burn through just about anything."

"But he was just a kid! I didn't even have control over my abilities until last year!" Eric spluttered. Bella considered this for a long moment.

"We just don't know enough. Perhaps these creatures can access dormant powers when they take over the host...." There was silence for several long moment as they all absorbed this. 

"Right a note to the king and send it on. He will want to hear about this." Bella said. It was a second before he realized she had been talking to Beau. The youngest fae had been standing right off to one side like a sentinel. Eric had forgotten he was there. Beau snapped to attention and darted away without a word. 

"Come. There is no more point on dwelling on it now. Today I will go through some breathing exercises." 

Eric didn't feel much like training anymore. His head was pinning with what he had just realised. The prospect was awful. If Dean had killed all those people... there had been a little girl living in one of those houses. 

He followed Bella mutely to the centre of the room. They passed a fire ball back and forth to each other like an odd game of catch. the idea was to keep the ball the same size and not have it fluctuate in size. It was quite difficult, especially with how wild Eric's thoughts currently were. He kept accidently feeding it his fear and worry, making swell dangerously. Bella didn't tell him off for this, just calmly reminded him to breathe slowly and relax.

He had never worked with a proper fire user before. It was a good feeling, like they shared a connection with this one aspect of magic. It made him feel a little less alone. 

Training with Beren was not so horrifying now that they had both had their little spat. The techniques Beren showed him were more like judo then anything, redirecting attack away from the body. It was actually very interesting. 

After about two hours, both fae announced they were done for the day and Eric was led back along the twisting corridor. He was less interested in looking around this time and walked with his head down. Beau had not come back yet and they walked in silence back to doorway they had first come through. When he looked at it, his stomach twisted. It was like looking in a dark lake. The insides of the door were writhing inky black.

"Just step through and it will take you back." Bella said. Eric closed his eyes this time as he stepped through.

Just as the last time his whole world seemed to turn up-side-down. For several heartbeats, up was down and the light died on all sides. He lurched clumsily forward into the mid-day sunshine.

Breathing heavily, Eric rubbed at his eyes until everything came back into focus. He was back at Sunseeker Cove. Thankfully, the laundry room was still empty though he could hear the voices of people in the carpark. It was warm outside and Eric stepped away from the corridor into the open. He thought about going straight to his room and trying to do some research but he was so rattled but the morning's event that he changed his mind and headed for the beach.

The sun had settled deep into the sand, making it hot under foot. Eric strode towards a little out cove, away from the few people playing in the surf. He laid back on the hot sand, letting the warmth from it and sun soak into his blood and bones. That was another small benefit of his phoenix biology. He never got sunburnt. He could lie here all day and hardly get a tan. Seagulls squabbled nearby as a couple tossed them scraps from their lunch. Some children were laughing and running about further down the beach.

The waves pounded against the shore, their size larger than usual in the hot day and warm wind. Eric took it all in with his eyes closed, willing himself to be calm. All he found though, when he was silent inside his head was a deep pit of loneliness and guilt. Suddenly he didn't feel quite so arm anymore. Finally, stiff and not so calm, Eric sat up and trudged back to his apartment, pausing on the grass to brush the sand from his body.

Back in his apartment he hesitated, then grabbed the electric blanket he kept folded in the cupboard, he plugged it in a crawled underneath it on his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, there was someone else beside him.

"I'm asleep." He said as Alois smiled down at him.

"Yes. You have been for quite a while. You seemed rather troubled." The vampire said. Eric sat up and immediately began to shiver.

"Why do you say that?" He muttered, grabbing for the blanket but it was gone.

"Because you were about to have a nightmare." Alois said, pointing. Eric followed his gaze and felt his mouth go dry. In the corner of his bedroom was a shadow. It was unnaturally long, almost human shaped and looming. It seemed somehow three dimensional, leaning away from the wall and towards him. Eric shrank back.

"It's alright. It can't hurt you. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?" Alois offered. Mutely, Eric nodded as the thing began to writhe and flex, as though trying to detach itself from the wall. The vampire stood. He strode towards the shadow and as he did, it began to shrink like a scalded animal, shrivelling until there was nothing but the familiar soft pastel blue paint and cornicing.

"Menacing, isn't it, the unknown." Alois said, running his fingertips along the wall. He turned back to face Eric.

"So why are you so upset?" He asked. Eric bit his lip. Alois came back over to sit beside him on the bed.

"Those things that have Dean. I think they are using him to hunt down and kill other super naturals." Eric said. Alois nodded.

"Well yes, most likely. What else would they do with a phoenix? They were hardly just going to keep him as a pet." Eric stared at the vampire, horrified.

"He's only a kid." Eric choked.

"Not anymore." The vampire reminded him. Eric wrapped his arms around his knees, his shivering worsening.

"I'm sorry, perhaps I should leave?" Alois suggested. He made to stand but Eric grabbed hold of his arm.

"Wait! Don't go. Could... could you just sit with me for a while? I don't want to be alone." Eric whispered. At the edges of the room, the shadows were already started to wiggled again. The vampire hummed and wrapped an arm around Eric. Alois reached behind him and pulled over the fallen blanket. He wrapped Eric in it tightly.

"Of course." Alois murmured, brushing his lips across Eric's cheek.

"Of course, I'll stay with you little bird." He promised. As Eric laid back against him, he never saw the wide mouthed smirk or the way the shadows bowed towards the master vampire and not away.

"Just get some rest. I'll be right here." Eric closed his eyes, letting the weight of the other man hold him as the blackness closed back in.

\--

END

\--


	11. Learning From Our Mistakes

\--

Chapter Eleven

Learning From Our Mistakes

\--

“And then this lady just looked me dead in the face and says, ‘what do you mean I can’t take the towels with me!?’ I mean seriously, how are people so entitled!?” Katie spluttered. Bec gave a snort.

“That’s nothing! Just last week this guy spilt his drink and he snapped his fingers in my face like a dog and ordered me to clean it up!” Everyone winced. Eric could just imagine what might have happened next…

“I nearly punched the asshole in the face. Pete just walks up to the guy and slams napkins down on the table. Probably just as well, saved the douche a very expensive trip to the dentist after I would have knocked half his teeth out.” Bec sneered, pouring herself another soda. 

Eric smiled weakly. He had really needed this, to spend an afternoon with normal people. His friends had demanded they do a games and pizza night. Eric had only needed half a second to think about it before inviting everyone to his apartment. Bec, Katie, Jack and himself sat sprawled on the floor with several pizzas, and a large box of sweet potato scallops and calamari rings. 

They hadn’t been able to decide where to get dinner from so Eric had just insisted they get both. 

“I needed this.” Katie sighed, laying back against the couch as she dipped on end side of her calamari in sauce.

“Definitely.” Joey agreed, helping himself to a third slice of pizza. Eric nodded. He wished he could explain to them his own worries and problems but his life wasn’t exactly easy to explain. 

It had been about two weeks since he had started his… training. 

He had still yet to see the fae king again but without fail, Beau came to collect him and take him to… where ever the hell it was. That was part of the problem. Beau, Beren and Bella only ever told him what they thought he should know. Which was practically nothing. Beren only ever spoke when teaching or complaining about Eric’s ineptitude and Bella only talked about his progress in fire magic. Beren had said he had wanted Eric to continue his Karate, if only for the co-ordination and fitness. And this was all on top of his few shifts at the books shop and online classes.

Exhausted, frustrated and ignored, Eric had been sorely missing a friendly face. 

“How are the studies going?” Katie asked him, jolting him from his brooding.

“Very badly.” He grumbled. The girls raised their eyebrows.

“How so?” Bec said, nudging some garlic bread towards him. Eric took it gratefully and took a large bite of hot garlic buttery goodness.

“It doesn’t help that one of my instructors is a complete asshole.” He said grumpily. Katie snorted.

“Better you then me, man. I could never go back to studying. I hated school.” Joey sighed before licking a drop of barbeque sauce from his shirt.

“Joey, that’s disgusting.” Bec snapped. Joey just shrugged. 

“Are you sure you should be taking so many classes? You look so worn down.” Katie said gently. Eric nodded. He knew that he looked bad. The bizarre thing was, he couldn’t quite work out why. 

Yes, the training was tiring but he was eating well and each session was similar. His body should be getting used to the work load and yet there were nights when he went to sleep and woke up just as tired as before he went to bed.

When he tried to think of those nights, he had a vague impression of moving shadows and long white pointed teeth. It was as though his mind and body were unable to rest. He rubbed at his face with rather greasy fingers.

“I know. It should get easier once I’ve worked through a few things.” He said vaguely. Katie eyed him shrewdly.

“Mm. If you say so.” She said. 

“Pass the scallops.” He muttered. 

The group ate themselves into a stupor, half heartedly watching a random anime and complaining loudly about their day jobs. Eric enjoyed the afternoon immensely and was not looking forward to everyone leaving. He loved his apartment. He really did but he didn’t like being alone at the moment. As everyone started to sluggishly pack up many hours later, Eric reluctantly said good night.

“Don’t worry, we won’t wait so long to do this again.” Bec said cheerful at his downcast expression.

“We could do this at the beach next time! Have a BBQ.” Katie added.

“Yeah. That would be good.” Eric said. They exchanged hugs and Joey waved sleepily as the little group left into the warm night and down the stairs. Still not quite wanting to go to bed and face the dreams, Eric made a cup of tea and sat out on his little patio, staring up at the stars and listening to the distant noise of the ocean. 

“Your friends seem nice.” 

Eric nearly shrieked. 

Beau was perched with unnatural catlike balance on his patio railing.

“What the actually fuck!? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Eric spat, looking down in dismay at his ruined shirt. It was a good thing he couldn’t get burnt because he had effectively tipped his entire cup of scalding tea down his front. 

“It’s odd though. I wouldn’t have thought a phoenix would so interested in mundane humans.” The fae went on thoughtfully. Eric fought the urge to shove the man to see if he would fall and instead turned and stalked back inside, stripping off the sopping shirt. To his great annoyance, the little fae followed.

“Your place is really nice.” Beau said enthusiastically as he peered around. He looked with interest at the left-over pizza. There was surprisingly little of it. If Eric didn’t know any better, he would have thought Joey had something supernatural in him. No one that thin had the right to be able to eat as much as he did.

“Why are you here Beau?” Eric asked grumpily as he refilled his teapot. 

“Just checking up on you. The king has been getting worried.” Beau said, poking at the pizza box with his foot. 

“Eat some if you want. The one on the left is vegetarian. Might be a bit cold though.” Eric said wearily. The fae’s face lit up. He picked up a slice and sniffed at it. It was actually rather amusing to watch. Eric pulled out a second mug and made two fresh cups of tea. 

“What has his royal highness so worried?” Eric said with some sarcasm. Beau frowned.

“He has been listening to the reports Bella and Beren have been giving and Bella has noted your drop in aura recently.” Eric nearly tipped his cup over again.

“My what?” He spluttered. He passed the second cup to the fae sitting on the floor.

“She suspects your aura had been drained. You haven’t been meetings with anyone else, have you? Allowing someone to feed on your life energy can be very dangerous.” Beau said sternly.

“I haven’t met with anyone! And why would I let someone drain me? I’m not an idiot!” Eric said, alarmed. He sat down on the couch, thinking hard.

“Have you tried any new spells? Gone anywhere strange?” Beau asked. Eric shook his head.

“No. Nothing new outside what I’ve been learning with Bella. I… I haven’t been sleeping very well lately but other than that…” He added, staring into his tea cup. Beau’s frowned deepened.

“Can’t get to sleep?” He asked.

“No. It’s… there just bad dreams.” Eric mumbled.

“Ah, but they may not be just bad dreams. Tell you what, allow me to put a few charms around your sleeping area. Nothing invasive just a few wards to bolster your own.” Eric shifted uncomfortably. 

He wasn’t entirely thrilled about letting a third party set out wards in his own space. On the other hand, if it helped with the nightmares…

“If they don’t work, you can remove them?” Eric asked. Beau nodded then took a large bite of the pizza.

“Yesh.” He said thickly. Eric sighed, suddenly feeling his exhaustion. 

“Alright. Set them up.” He said. They sat awkwardly for a few minutes, Eric sipping his tea and Beau finishing his slice. Then the little fae bounded to his feet and scurried into Eric’s bedroom. Eric followed. Beau was moving his hands up and down over the walls. He looked a bit like an over enthusiastic mime. It would have funny if Eric hadn’t been so tense. 

“These are alright.” Beau said, pointing to the delicately painted runes.

“Well crafted, very carefully done but they are only basic symbols.” He went on.

“They were all I was able to learn on my own.” Eric said defensively. Beau smiled at him.

“It wasn’t meant as a barb. With your hand and natural power, I’m sure we could teach you much better one, ones more suited to a fire base of magic.” Eric felt his shoulder’s come down from his ears a little. 

“I would… appreciate that.” He admitted sheepishly. Beau bobbed his head.

“I’ll pass that on to Bella. She can teach you. Now, for today, I’ll just put these in place.” The fae began to trace patterns onto the wall. He didn’t seem to need paint but Eric could see a faint green glow appear. He could feel the swell of magic in the air, like a build up of static. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“There.” Eric gave himself a little shake. Beau had drawn four sigils, one in each corner. He had to really concentrate to make them show up in his mind’s eye.

“Get some sleep. I’ll show myself out.” Beau said happily.

“Is that why you came? To put up the sigils?” Eric asked. The fae nodded. The phoenix frowned.

“What if I’d said no?” He said suspiciously. The fae shrugged.

“My orders were to put them up. I probably just would have waited until you went to the toilet and put them up then.” He said happily. 

Eric’s eye twitched.

“Get out.” He said flatly.

“Goodnight!” Said the fae.

\--

It took a long time for Eric to fall asleep, partly to his own unwillingness to dream. His eyes had gotten heavier and heavier, the shapes in his room growing dimmer and fuzzier until finally he drifted off. 

It was the birds that woke him. Eric groaned, throwing an arm over his face. He felt groggy as all hell. He fumbled for his phone and glanced at the screen. It took his brain a minute to process the time. 

Holy crap, he had slept a full ten hours!

It was late morning. He sat up. He actually felt rested. He raked his brain. He didn’t remember having any dreams as such. Strangely enough he did remember something right at the beginning of the night and it had been the weirdest thing... 

Confusion. Anger. 

Not his anger, of that he was pretty sure. 

Something or someone had been angry. He remembered feeling it trying to press in on him but being unable to reach him. And then as quickly as the sensation had been there, it was gone. 

Eric sighed contentedly and stretched, feeling his joints pop in few places from staying so long in one position. He stumbled out of bed and put the coffee on before practically crawling into the shower. It wasn’t until after the shower, a mug of coffee and two pieces of toast later that he started to feel really awake and refreshed. By the time he had eaten, he had completely forgotten about that alien presence. He really wanted to learn how to make those wards himself. 

It was with more enthusiasm then usual that he opened the front door and set off down the stairs. Beau was waiting for him in the carpark and for once, he wasn’t annoyed to see the bouncy little fae.

“Sleep well?” Beau asked, already preparing to create the portal that would whisk them away. Eric nodded.

“Yeah actually. Thanks.” He said humbly. The fae just beamed. Eric let himself relax in the warm sun, listing to the traffic and buzzing and chirping of the bees and crickets.

“Let’s go then.” Beau waved a hand at the doorway which was now shimmering. Eric took a breath and stepped through. The sensation was still unpleasant, like missing a step on the way down the stairs but it no longer disorientated him. He could at least walk through to the other side without feeling like he had been tossed in an overside tumble drier. 

He followed the now familiar path along tree root bridges and earth hallways. It was only in the last few days that a few of the fae residents had been brave enough to wave as he went passed. He did notice that none of them looked old though some did have almost ghostly white hair. He had no idea how long fae lived for or if they even could die of natural causes. 

Beren and Bella were waiting for him. Bella came forward and without asking permission. Placed her warm hands on his face, inspecting him closely.

“Urhm.” Eric grumbled. She released him with a smile.

“You look much healthier today.” She said, satisfied. 

“Yeah, about that. Is there anyway to find out what it was that was affecting me?” He asked. The fae woman shook her head.

“Not now. It is gone now though and I implore you not to disturb the new wards just in case it comes back. Some spirits can feed on the energy of the sleeping. It may have been attracted to your unique aura and sort to find sustenance from you.” She theorised.

“Wonderful.” Eric said, a little creeped out as he imagined a nameless ghost hovering over his bed with its jaws stretched wide and its eyes black. 

“Come. Let’s begin.” The training began as it always did with a warm up. To his own delight, he found it much easier to keep up with them both. He did better then he ever had, running faster, reacting quicker and holding the spells for longer so that even Beren grumbled less than usual. Beren paused mid strike to look up somewhere over Eric’s shoulder.

“How do you feel?” A deep voice said. Eric stared up at a walkway where a man stood. Perhaps it was because it had been several weeks since he had seen the king but Arwen’s beauty was all the more impactful. He seemed to glow in the light of the cavern.

“Fine thanks.” Eric said, feeling stupidly embarrassed. His shirt was sweaty and sticking to him and he had dirt smeared down one side of his face. He fought the urge to wipe it away. He did not care what the fae king thought of him. Sort of. 

“You are sleeping better?” The elegant features of the man were etched into an expression of concern.

“Yes.” 

“And your training?” He addressed this question more towards his own fae. Bella smiled.

“He is a quick learner. His control over his fire had improved dramatically over the last two weeks.” 

“Is he ready to be taken into outside scenarios?” Arwen asked. Eric could tell that both of his teachers were alarmed by this question.

“Sire, it has only been two weeks. He has only just brushed up on his basics.” Bella said, her face set with concern.

“How long?” The king pressed. Beren and Bella exchanged stunned looks. 

“What’s happened?” Eric asked, already starting to suspect what this could be about. Arwen closed his eyes for a moment before answering.

“There has been another attack.” The king said. He looked tense, mournful even. Eric felt Bella shift beside him.

“Who?” She asked tremulously. 

“Tiana’s son. He was taken last night. He was travelling home alone.”

“Why was the boy on his own!? I thought you had made it known that our should people should be travelling together.” Beren snapped.

“It was early in the night in a crowded public street. I expect he thought it unnecessary for an escort for such a short journey through a well-used street. They are getting bolder. The time between abductions is shortening. Whether this is because they have larger numbers to make the abductions or because they are getting stronger, I can’t say.” The king sighed.

“What do you want me for?” Eric asked.

“We have a plan.” Arwen murmured.

“He’s not ready.” Beren argued. The king held up a hand, silencing him.

“What is it?” Eric pressed, ignoring the scathing look Beren sent him.

“We want to lay a trap. The best way to understand these creatures is to capture one but they don’t ever attack groups. They only go for a single target at a time.” The fae king said, his face momentarily blank.

“So, you want to use me as bait? I thought your own magic wasn’t always reliable on these things?” 

“It isn’t which is why we have outside help. They will be creating the spell that will help trap one of these creatures.” 

“And said outside help is?” Eric raised an eyebrow. 

“A witch coven.” Arwen murmured. Bella lips were pressed so tightly together, they made a hard, thin line across her normally flawless features. It was obvious that she did not think much of this plan.

“The magic of a witch coven trumps fae magic?” Eric said as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“No but it is a very different kind of magic. We are hoping that will be enough. These things are expecting fae spells, not coven magic.” Eric sighed.

“Maybe I can ask Alois-”

“No.” The king’s voice was like a whip crack.

“I need to know those who are involved can be trusted without any other agenda.” Arwen added.

“This plan is not great. You have to admit that.” Eric said flatly.

“We know.” Arwen murmured. The group went quiet for a moment. 

“I’m in.” Eric said.

“No!” Bella yelped.

“Sire, he isn’t trained! Those things could kill them.” Beren snapped.

“We don’t have any other choice. I will not watch any more of my people be taken.” Arwen said, his voice harder and angrier than Eric had ever heard it. It seemed to resonate in his bones. 

“Be ready Eric. We will leave for tomorrow night. Beau will collect you.” Before they could stop him, the king spun and marched away, his platinum gold hair flying silently behind him as he stalked away.

\--

END

\--


	12. From Bad to Worse

\--

Chapter Twelve

From Bad to Worse

\--

Despite the king’s warning, Eric did seriously consider contacting the vampire master. Partly because this plan was fairly garbage even in Eric’s own limited understanding of the supernatural world and partly because he knew the old vampire would probably want to help him. He didn’t though. He had no more bad dreams that night but his sleep was broken and restless. 

He woke unnaturally early the next morning with itchy eyes and a bad feeling about what was to come that night. He shuffled about his apartment, feeling rather displaced. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself and couldn’t sit down for more then a few minutes at a time. 

The day was hideously bright and sunny outside, complete with obscenely white puffy clouds. He could hear the screeching laughter of the children and splashing in the pool downstairs. Deciding that exercise wasn’t a bad idea, he grabbed a towel and jogged the short distance to the nearest beach. It wasn’t school holidays yet so whilst there were quite a few older locals, the beach was relatively empty. He set his towel down and waded into the surf. 

He swam for a while, trying to use the driving thumping waves to drown out his own worry and tension. He needed to be calm and level headed for tonight. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. Well no, that was a ridiculous understatement. He knew he wasn’t ready for this but there was no way he could live in his own head knowing that he hadn’t tried. 

Dean had been a shit of a kid. Probably no worse than any other little brother but he managed to find trouble on a fairly regular basis. Eric had spent many afternoons making alibis for his little brother, chasing him for his latest theft of Eric’s stuff and laughing with him. Those memories seemed so much sharper today. He couldn’t bury them as easily and he left the beach an hour later feeling no better than when he’d arrived.

He had a long shower, forced down some food and went for a walk around the town. He stopped in at the bookshop and asked Carol if she wanted a coffee. The plump woman was stunned to see him on his day off.

“No thank you, that’s very sweet. Are you already, you look a bit peaky?” she wheedled, peering into his face with her rose-coloured reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. He offered her a lopsided smile. It hurt his face.

“I’m fine. Bad night’s sleep. I thought I would go for a walk to clear my head,” he said passively. She smiled.

“That’s a fine idea. You take care of yourself.” Carol eyed him critically. Eric shuffled on his feet. He felt a bit exposed. He secretly rather loved the woman. Both Carol and Clair had seemed to have partly adopted him, fussing over his shirt and his messy hair, asking him if he’d eaten enough or if he had met anyone he fancied. It was nice, having adults around that cared for him. 

He gave her another tight smile and waved goodbye. He must have looked more tense then he realized because he caught sight of her worried expression on the glass door as he turned to go. Feeling oddly guilty, he did buy her a coffee. He snuck back in and left in on the counter with her name written on the cup, knowing the aroma would draw her out from the back room pretty quickly. 

He had lunch at the local fish and chip shop, sitting on one of the cold metal chairs and watching the cars go passed outside of the wide glass window. The food was turning into an uncomfortable lump in his belly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this strange peaceful life he had carefully constructed was starting to come apart at the seams. 

\--

“Ready to go?” Beau asked. For the first time since Eric met the brat, the young fae wasn’t smiling. It made his face look so much older and skeletal. It looked…wrong.

“As well as I can be when I’m not really sure what we are walking into,” Eric murmured. He was wearing tight fitted but comfortably dark clothing. He had considered boots but didn’t really think trying to run in heavy steel cap boots was particularly wise. He hadn’t lived as long as he had by making those kinds of stupid decisions. 

He pulled his apartment door closed behind him with an ominous clunk. He hoped he would be able to come back and see the place again. As he walked slowly down the steps he wondered if he should stop in a tell Pete… what? What would he say?

Either this mission would be a success and he would be home later tonight or he would be dead and it didn’t matter. That wasn’t really a conversation that could be summed up in ten words or less. He could see Katie and Bec chatting at the bar and his heart gave a hard thump in his chest. It was better not to say anything.

“Ready?” Beau stood at the usual doorway to the laundry room. The swirling vortex was already in place. Eric nodded and stepped into it.

Perhaps it was just his nerves but the trip seemed to take far longer then usual. The sickening sensation of being sloshed around from all sides carried him along. He had long since worked out that keeping his eyes shut was the best way to get through the experience without losing the contents of his stomach. When his feet hit the ground on the other side, he sucked in a large breath. 

He regretted it almost immediately as the sour tang of rancid vomit, rotten garbage and urine hit his lung. He gagged. His eyes snapped up. They were standing in narrow alleyway. The concrete underfoot was wet from rain and the dumpsters were bulging with garbage bags from the nearby restaurants. Where ever they were, it was late because the sun had already gone down in this city. He could hear the rumbling of traffic and snatches of conversations. He wasn’t entirely sure what language was being spoken.

“Where are we?” he asked, glancing at Beau. It was dark but he could still make out spectacular structures. Not the sky scrapers of a contemporary steel on glass construct but tall thin spires of brick work.

“Berlin.” Eric froze.

“As in the capital of Germany?” His voice went a little squeaky. 

“I believe so. Why, is that relevant?” Beau asked politely.

“No. I guess not.” Eric croaked. 

“Good, come on then.” Beau set off and Eric hurried to catch up. He didn’t like the idea of being stranded in a completely foreign country with no form of identification, no money and no idea of how to speak German. Somehow, he didn’t think “A fae shoved me through a magic portal and I landed in your city” was quite going to work to get him out of trouble with the local police. That just sounded insane in any language.

In any other circumstance he would have loved to look around. He had never been to Germany before. The architecture of the buildings was old with pale grey and white brickwork overlaying with red and orange roof tops. He could hear and smell water and wondered if they were near a river. He remembered distantly that the city was at least three hours away from the seaside. 

Beau led him out of one ally and down another, then through a narrow side street and up a flight of stone steps onto a mossy walkway. They walked for nearly ten minutes before Beau stopped suddenly at the mouth of yet another alleyway. Four tall figures hunched in the shadow and for a brief moment, Eric’s fear flashed hot as memories of hulking slithering shadows rose from his subconscious. As one of the figures stood up, he lost some of his panic, recognising the long blonde hair. 

“You’re here. Good.” Arwen murmured quietly.

“What now? And why Berlin?” Eric asked. He recognised Beren but the other two fae were unknown to him. They were large with sharp hawk like features. They had the delicate pointed ears he had seen on all fae but their skin was an oddly dusty charcoal colour. He yes them wearily. Arwen caught him looking and explained.

“This is Dorran and Finian. They are dusk fae. And to answer you question, I told you we where working with a witch coven. That coven resides here and it made more sense to come to them.” The king inclined his head to the two new fae as he spoke. Their expressions were grim but they inclined their heads politely towards Eric. Eric returned the gesture nervously. 

“We will meet with them here. This area of the city is a little less populated them other places and has less artificial lighting. This is where we will set the trap.” Eric looking around. He had noticed the old fashion light posts. Their bulbs were rather dull and they didn’t offer much light. He knew the creature they were hunting preferred the gloom. 

“Okay,” Eric agreed. They didn’t have to wait long. A few cars padded but the street was otherwise quiet. They heard the sound of shoe tread on the pavement. About six women walked toward the group. It was a little difficult to tell in the low light but Eric thought that the youngest would be in her forties whilst the others were all older. 

“King Arwen, is this the boy?” The lead woman had a voice like crumbling chalk and heavy with a German accent. It was dry and scratched at Eric’s ears. She was probably the oldest of the witches, her wrinkles deep set with age and a life lived. Her grey and white hair had been bound back in a plat over her shoulder. Arwen placed a gentle hand on Eric’s shoulder and pressed him forward.

“Yes,” the king murmured. She gazed up at Eric beadily. Despite being a whole head shorter than him, Eric felt very uncomfortable and a bit intimidated by the woman. He could sense her magic. It seemed to buzz in the air around her like fruit flies. 

“You’ve volunteered to be bait; you understand that boy?” she asked Eric. Eric nodded; his throat dry.

“We will be placing you in the centre of a scrying field. The scrying field will act like a spider’s web with you at its core. It should trap and hold anything that touches it and transmit back to us which part of the net has been activated. We will need some of your blood to draw out the creatures,” she droned. Eric nodded. He had already expected they would need blood for the spell. 

“We will pull right back out of the street and wait,” Arwen added. Eric swung around to look at him, alarmed.

“You’re not staying close by?” he asked.

“We can’t. If these creatures know we are close they may not come. Don’t worry, we aren’t going far. The moment anything touches the spell field we will move in,” the king promised in a low voice. Eric swallowed nervously.

“Okay,” he rasped. 

“Let’s get started then,” the old crow snapped.

“Remember boy, if all else fails, you have your fire. You are not a child anymore,” Beren grunted. It was an oddly comforting thing for the old fae to say and Eric appreciated it. 

“But don’t summon your fire to early or they may choose to flee,” Arwen warned. Eric gave them a nod and followed the waiting group of witches into the open street. They sat him down on the curb, as though he had just chosen to sit there and wait for a cab. A wind picked up. It was a moment before Eric realised that it was unnatural. The wind carried whispers, chants in a language he couldn’t understand. 

One of the women drew a long thin knife and knelt beside him. His eyes flicked to it. That seemed a lot bigger than necessary…

Pain, white hot and wet lanced down the side of his leg.

“Fuck!” His hand came up automatically as a fist but she was already jumping back. He probably would have hit her if she hadn’t. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed. The cut was not to deep but at least four inches long, slicing through the denim of his jeans and flaying his muscle open. Blood was soaking hot into the fabric. He made to stand but a wave of nausea and dizziness stole his balance and he fell back hard on the wet stone curb. The chanting was getting louder and with every word, Eric felt sicker. 

He had no idea if this was supposed to happen. If it was why hadn’t they warned him? He tried to shout something but a particularly sharp phrase had him throwing himself forward and vomiting up the contents of his stomach. His vision swam and his nerves felt like they were on fire. The woman were all hazy blurs on the peripheral of his sight. He vaguely thought he heard a male voice cursing but the chanting was now so loud that Eric was forced to clap his hands over his ears.

Blood seeped into his shoe, his sock wet and sticky. There was the smell of smoke in the air and the knee of his jeans were wet with his own sick. His ears felt like they were bleeding. Just when he thought the back of his skull would split open under the pressure of the coven’s magic, it stopped.

Then the street lights went out. 

All six woman had gone. In the dimness of the city night, Eric could see a cascade of lines in his inner vision. The spell had worked. He tried to move but his body was still twitching in pain. He was a literal fly to bait the spiders, to exhausted and crippled to fight back. Plunged into darkness, Eric stared up the ally way he had come from with Beau. 

He didn’t know how he knew, but every instinct told him that something was there.

They came one at a time, like mangy ally cats drawn to a dying animal. Eric shuddered in revulsion. The creature was moving with a hideous gate, crawling along the ground on all fours. Its back legs were to long for its movement and it looked as though they dislocated at the hip joint with every over reaching step forward.

Eric nearly stopped breathing. He was listening, his brain telling him there should be sound coming from four moving figures but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart and babble of traffic from three streets away.

The things paused, right at the very edge of the scrying circle. They rocked, eyeless heads turning one way and then the other as though sniffing the air. Eric shifted, blood dripping sluggishly onto the concrete. He could run. If his leg would hold him and his vision cleared…

He tried to use his inner vision but it was like they sucked in the ambient magic and light around them. It was like staring into oblivion. There was nothing to them, no aura, no identifying features...

A fifth creature, much smaller than the others stayed right back near the mouth of the ally. It did not come forward but crouched by the wall. It seemed more humanoid then the others and with a jolt to the guts Eric realized that this creature did have an aura. It spangled out from around it in dim hues of red, orange and gold. It was a weak aura but at least it still had one. 

“Dean?” His voice echoed in his own skull as though he been cracked over the back of the head. The leg that had been cut was going numb. One of the creatures broke from a detangled crawl into a run. It was still completely silent, the movement catching Eric eye. Eric gave a shout of panic as the thing clear several metres in the blink of an eye. 

The lines of magic lit up and down the street, activated as the creature crossed them. It lunged for Eric, fingers elongating at the joints to reach him. As it leapt, it seemed to slow down in the air until gravity itself seemed to pull it to a stop. It was frozen, mid leap.

The other creatures drew back, avoiding the spindles of the coven’s spell. They darted back the way they had come, pouring back towards the darkness of the ally way and the cracks that held all those unseen spaces where the little things creep in to die and rot. 

The smallest of the creatures seemed to hesitate, for just a moment. Then one of the larger of the others collided with it. The smaller figure was sent sprawling. To Eric shock, he heard it hit the ground, its body not yet taken on the corporal qualities of its fellows.

“Dean? Dean its me!” Eric shouted. He struggled to his feet, pins and needles spangling down his leg. The large one caught in the trap twitched. As Eric tried to make his way across the mind field of spell work, the trapped creature was starting to move again. Slowly at first, just its front limbs, then its back. It was still suspended off the ground but the network of spells didn’t seem to be able to keep it contained. As Eric watched, the light blue lines of the coven’s traps seemed to be absorbed into the beasts writhing black body. 

“Arwen!?” Eric shouted. 

The web was disintegrating from the inside out, collapsing and corroding away under the pressure of the thing it held. As the other two large creatures reeled back for another attempt, Eric conjured his phoenix fire. As bright gold flame roared to life on the street of Berlin, the world’s noise seemed to click back on. He heard shouting and saw figures flashing passed him. 

Beren and Finian attacked the nearest creature with swords in hand. The glittering metal hit the thing and a slimy black something fell off its carcass and hit the ground. It was about the size of a man’s arm but the creature didn’t look the slightest bit disorientated by this. It just flung out another long limb, both fae leaping sideways to avoid it. Eric had only a second to react when another shape came for him out of the darkness.

He dodged a clawed arm that went for his throat. The flames in his hand flew at his command. They latched onto the creature and it shrieked at a volume that shattered the windows of the houses nearest to him. Glass rained down from above, cutting Eric across the face and shoulder. He ducked, covering his head and something heavy impacted with his unprotected right side. 

He was thrown to the ground, his head cracking against the road. Dazed, he had enough sense to roll out of the way as the blackness lunged for him anew. Its claws ripped up sparks as it missed his body and landed on the foot path. The complete silence of these monsters was incredibly disorientating. Where he expected to hear a thump of an animal the size of a cart horse landing, there was nothing. Just a gust of wind as it passed. 

The fae were hacking and slashing at the remaining shadows but for every bit they slashed off, more seemed to grow. They weren’t winning this and it was only a matter of time before these things killed one of them. 

“Everyone, get down!” Eric screamed; his throat raw. He forced everything he had into feeding his fire. 

He threw it out from his body in a wave of burning heat. Street lamp poles bent in two, cars metaled and hedges were charred to ash in seconds. More blood curdling screeching and the five creatures vanished back into the night. 

As the world bled away at the edges, Eric was left completely drained, blood running from cuts on his forehead, hands and arms. The shrieking still rang in his ears until it was swapped for the blearing of sirens. His knees buckled and his arms wouldn’t move to take his weight. As he lost consciousness, he could have sworn the smallest of the creatures still stood in that ally way, bright gold eyes staring back out at him from deepest shadow. 

\--

END

\--


	13. At War with the World

\--

Chapter Thirteen

At War with the World

\--

“Explain this to me.” Eric knew that voice. It was hard, icy cold and defiantly British. He tried to open his eyes but they felt glued shut. He could still hear sirens but they seemed a little distance off now. Not that it mattered. His head swelled and ached as though he’d been hit by a base ball bat. The first thing he noted was that he had been rolled onto his back. 

He tried to move his fingers or wiggle his toes but pain lanced up through the muscles in his forearm and calves. Parts of his body had locked together and become ridged. It was like extreme build up of lactic acid, his body burning and aching horribly. Everything was to heavy to move and sound from the world around seemed to get louder and softer than louder again. Someone was mopping at his forehead with a cloth.

“You are not his keeper, vampire. It was his decision to come with us.” 

“It was not. You brought the boy here under this delusion idea that he would allow you to recapture your son. Your kin are dead and your recklessness nearly lost us the only advantage we have.” 

“How dare you!” snared a female voice. There was the sound of metal being drawn from leather. 

“Put that away child,” said the other, mockingly. Eric shifted, feeling gravel bite into his shoulder. His shirt had torn in several places and he knew without seeing the damage that there piece of glass imbedded in his back. He felt sticky and knew blood was seeping into the fabric of his jeans. He would have shivered if he had been able. He gave a low groan.

“We need to take him to a healer.” 

“You will do no such thing, as though a fae healer could work on a phoenix.” Eric was almost positive the voice was Alois’s. The vampire master sounded pissed. 

“Our healers are far more capable then any vampire,” snarled a new voice. Where they seriously having this fucking conversation whilst he was bleeding out on the road? He tried to work some spit back into his dry mouth, throat clicking.

“He should never have been here,” hissed someone in a low voice.

“He wanted to come,” snapped a male.

“All of you, shut the fuck up,” Eric spat. There was grit, blood and god knows what else stuck between his teeth. He managed to open one eye and glared at the mob of people standing close by. It was Beau who was squatted down beside him, his young face twisted with concern. There was another figure slumped against a low wall a couple of metres away. He thought it might have been Finian but his vision wasn’t working properly and the street was completely dark. He hoped the dusk fae was still breathing.

“Seriously. Shut the fuck up,” he said again as the nearest person opened their mouth. Eric struggled to sit up, his whole-body protesting. Someone had, at least, been nice enough to bandage the slice in his leg. It hurt like a bitch and he really wasn’t confident it would take his weight if he tried to stand.

“Eric, you shouldn’t be getting up,” Arwen murmured striding towards him.

“Yeah well, seeing as you are all too busy arguing to deal with the people who actually need help, I figured I would do it myself,” Eric snapped. Even in the low light he caught sight of the look of guilt and pain on the king’s angelic features. Eric didn’t particularly care about hurting the man’s feeling right now. He still wasn’t wholly convinced this hadn’t been some kind of set up.

“Don’t suppose you knew about the nice witch lady trying to cut my damn leg off?” Eric asked mulishly as he wrenched himself into a sitting position. Oh yeah, there was defiantly something sharp and crunched embedded in his shoulder. Beau hovered tensely, his head flicking from Eric to his king. His hands were outstretched as though unsure if he should try and help Eric up or push him back down. 

“What?” Alois’s voice barked. 

“No, no she was only meant to draw a little blood to activate the spell. She was never supposed to endanger or cripple you,” Arwen breathed.

“Yeah well, someone sucks at communicating. Maybe find another way of looking for help other than craigslist.” Eric growled. Arwen’s face looked briefly puzzled.

“What is craigslist?”

“Never mind,” Eric groaned. 

“Just summon a portal and send me home, I need a shower,” he grumbled.

“You need more then a shower boy!” Beren spluttered. Eric glanced at him. The older fae was holding his right arm tight to his chest and his face was smeared with blood.

“Are you alright?” Eric asked, worried. Beren snorted.

“Me blade got stuck and I was flung off the things back. I’ll be right. You need medical attention,” The fae grunted. 

“I will. On my own.” Eric tried to get up but pain flashed hot and sickening through his leg and he went down on his ass again, jarring his body. He spat out a curse. He was also not looking to picking the debris out of his body either. Hopefully a bottle of good whiskey would help with that.

“Eric, we can’t let you leave,” Arwen murmured.

“We can take him,” Alois growled. Eric shot the vampire a glare.

“The hell you will. I’m covered in blood,” he snapped. Even in the dark and at this distance, he could tell that two of the vampires had neck scarfs pulled up over their noses, probably to help with the scent of Eric’s blood. Even so, they twitched often and their eyes were glued to him. He felt distinctly hunted in this position. He didn’t want to be here anymore, even if he had to crawl away. He wasn’t interested in being snack on along with all the other shit he had dealt with tonight. 

“What if Beau takes you back and Bella meets you at your place? Will you allow her to treat you?” Arwen asked. He had his hands out as though he was trying to calm a spooked animal. Eric sighed. He did trust Bella more then a healer he had never met and one fae was better than several. 

“Seeing as I don’t have much of a choice, that’s fine. I guess,” Eric said resignedly. He avoided looking at the master vamp. Alois was so pale he seemed to glow. He was rather scary looking right now, unmoving with black eyes. He was pissed too; Eric didn’t have to look at the man’s face to know that. 

“Let’s go,” Eric muttered. It took Dorran and Beau to help him stand. Beau was muttering very fast under his breathe and before long, the space between to wall of an alley started to swirling and shimmer. 

“I will see you soon,” Alois said as they retreated. 

“You do that,” Eric muttered and only once they stepped through the portal, did he realise with a jolt that Alois had just revealed that he now knew where Eric lived. 

Wonderful.

\--

“What happened?” Bella breathed at the sight of them. She was carrying a small bag, most likely containing the medical supplies. She took him from Dorran and eased him through the door of his apartment. As Beau got Eric settled on his bed and started taking off his shoes, Dorran murmured hurriedly to Bella by the front door. 

Eric distantly heard the door close again. The sun was already up much to the irritation of Eric’s aching brain. He groaned in protest and Beau leapt up to hurriedly draw the thick curtain across. 

“Beau, get me some hot water,” Bella ordered as she came striding in. She helped Eric struggle out of his mangled jeans. He was so exhausted and sore; he didn’t even feel embarrassed about having a woman see him in his shorts and nothing else. The shirt was beyond saving so she used scissors she had found in the kitchen draw to cut it away. 

“We need to clean you to see how bad it is,” she said apologetically.

“My back is probably the worst part,” Eric rasped. With a groan of pain, he forced himself to roll over, feeling the skin and muscles stretch. His bedsheets were going to be a complete right off. Thankfully, Beau had the sense to pulled down the thick top covers first so at least he wasn’t going to get blood and gravel on them too. 

“Tweezers?” she asked as she pulled up a chair beside the bed. Beau came over and put two bowls of water down on the night stand. 

“Bathroom cabinet,” he croaked and Beau darted away again. Eric closed his eyes and just concentrated on not passing out again. Bella’s hands were gentle as she carefully wiped away the blood and ash from his skin, pausing now and again to wring out and resoak her wash cloth. Eric may have drifted in and out of the waking world because she started on his left arm and when he next noticed, she was carefully wiping his uninjured leg. 

The room was dark and smelt of the ocean, fabric softener and coffee grounds. It was safe here. It was home here. Beau must have opened the sliding door a little because warm summer sea breeze drifted into the apartment, lulling Eric. He flinched only a little as the fae began to carefully pick small bits of gravel, glass and other debris from his back. 

Next, she carefully inspected his head, gingerly poking and stroking his hair back to examine the large lump that had formed when he had hit the curb. He felt the tingling of magic as her fingertips curled around his scalp. Healing spells could be very powerful but unfortunately, like modern medicine, they often had to be very precise. 

Weaker, more general healing spells could be used on just about anyone but they were no more effective than just taking a home brand store-bought painkiller. More powerful spells had to be catered to the patient and whilst the magic of a sun fae was formidable, Bella would still only be able to do so much for a phoenix. Eric appreciated it all the same and as the aching in his skull lessened, his body relaxed and he fell asleep as she made a second pass over his head. 

It was late afternoon when he woke with a low groan. Several neat layers of bandages had been wrapped over and around his torso. His head felt oddly wet and he guessed she had applied some sort of ointment to his injury there. His leg had also been meticulously cleaned and was also heavily bandaged. 

“How are you feeling?” Bella asked. She had been sitting at the kitchen bench with a mug of tea. Hearing him wake, she had abandoned it to check on him.

“Not bad, all things considered,” he muttered, slowly easing himself into a sitting position. 

“I warned him this was not the way. To rely on witches…” she trailed off, looking sour. 

“Have you heard anything?” Eric asked. She shook her hair, her pony tail of red curls tumbling over one shoulder.

“No. Beau has left to report on you and find out what is going on. I wanted to stay until you woke.” 

“Thanks,” Eric murmured.

“I only wish I could do more but your anatomy is… quite different to a sun fae. I was able to knit your leg muscle back together but I must warn that you will be quite weak for a while until your body recovers,” she explained. Eric flexed his foot. The calf muscle was slow to respond and tender.

“Thank you,” he said again. She gave another small nod.

"Do you need anything else before I go?" asked the fae woman as she placed her cup on the draining board.

"No, I'm good."

“Stay here where you are protected by your wards. Don’t travel for a few days. We will return when we have news but you must rest,” she warned. Eric sighed. He was still aching and tired. Right now, the thought of more sleep sounded perfect.

“I will.” She gave him a rare smile, packed up her bag and waved him farewell. 

Eric sighed heavily. What a complete fucking mess. 

He laid back on the bed and flung an arm over his face. Images of the battle the night before washed over him. The slinking, silent slimy shadows coming out of the alleyway and lunging for him, tasting his blood in the air and knowing he was weak. He wasn't entirely sure of how pissed off to be with Arwen. The look of shock and worry on the king's dangerously pale face had looked genuine.

And Alois. How had the vampire found them?

He felt a shiver run the length of his body at the memory of the master vampire. He had never seen the man so angry. Eric rolled weakly and tried to get to feet. He really needed to use the toilet. He first attempt at putting wight on his leg had forced out a hiss between clenched teeth. He had wobbled dangerously over to the wall and clutched at it to very slowly edge his way towards the bathroom, thinking it would be just his luck for him to collapse and end up pissing on himself before he could get there. He did make it to the toilet, thank the gods and with a pronounced limp, washed his hand and waddled sluggishly back to the bed.

He vaguely wanted food but not badly enough to make another attempt at being vertical yet. He could call for takeout... Hell, if he rang downstairs, Katie or Bec would most likely bring him something. He didn't want to do that to them though. He carried a great affection for both woman and he had already seen that flash of worry and fear in Katie's eyes when they had met for dinner two nights ago. Seeing him so pale and sickly, she had probably thought he was relapsing from his 'illness'. He didn't want them to worry. He certainly didn't feel like he deserved their worry. 

The thought of a hot shower was also heavily enticing but he didn't want to get his new bandages wet and he really didn't think his leg would permit standing for long periods of time. Instead, he collapsed back down onto his bed in a mangled and pitiful heap. He pulled the blankets up to his head and was asleep again before too long. 

It was the knocking that woke him next, a sharp persistence rap of knuckles of wood. Eric blinked groggily. He grabbed at his phone and blink down at the screen. It was 10pm. He had slept the entire day away. His throat was incredibly dry and his stomach growled now that he was awake. The knocking continued with creepy consistency. 

"Coming," he croaked out. His bad leg wobbled dangerously as he put weight on it. Carefully, he made his way to the door, his mind still addled with hunger and sleep. Hopefully he could tell who ever it was to fuck off so he could get better acquainted with the inside of his fridge. He missed the warning prickles in his fingers as he reached for the doorknob and was so out it, he didn't notice when his wards flickered in and out of his peripheral. His jaw dropped.

Alois stood in the doorway. Eric was rooted to the spot, his hand still wrapped around the door handle. This wasn't Alois the serene immaculately dressed British man, almost passing for human. This was the vampire clan leader. His eyes were completely black, his skin ash white, the blue veins standing out vividly like little trickles of oil paint down a fresh canvas. The bloodless lips looked especially thin and inhuman.

Still dressed in his button-down dress shirt and black slacks, he clasped his hands in front of him. The fingernails were sharp claws, black like his eyes and lethal looking. He tugged at one of his glittering silver cuff links.

"Good afternoon," He said pleasantly, his accent and sharp teeth jumbling the words. Eric stared.

"Wha... what are you doing here?" His voice sounded awful, raspy even to his own ears.

"Why, I am here to make sure you don't do anything else stupid, little bird," The vampire said. Nothing but his lips moved. He didn't blink, didn't twitch, not a wisp of hair moved. It was a wholly unnatural stillness. It was odd how you don't notice something until there is a stark lack of it. People move, their clothing moves, even when they sit. 

This creature just... didn't. 

"You can't come in unless I invite you," Eric said. He meant to sound annoyed or strong but the sentence came out as more of a question. Alois lifted a clawed hand like he was about to start waving it. He pressed it forward and something pushed back against it. The air moved subtly, like heat waves off a hot road. Alois pressed but his hand didn't cross over the threshold into the apartment. 

"More or less correct," he mused. Eric really wished he would blink. His black eyes were so creepy. His mind flicked back to a memory of fire, the smell of smoke, the sounds of sirens and a flash of dense night sky. 

"I'm fine," Eric heard himself say.

"I'm sure you think so. I disagree. It would seem I put too much faith in your maturity. Your actions last night certainly proved that. I made the mistake of allowing you to spend to much time with that fae. Now we do things my way. You will drink this." Alois withdrew a small glass vial from out of his waistcoat pockets. It was a deep blood red liquid. He held it out.

"And you take yourself to bed and you won't leave it again for at least forty-eight hours." Eric blinked.

"What is it?" he asked, slowly taking the vial. Alois smiled. It was a creepy sight.

"Drink it." Eric bristled slightly. He was tired and he ached all over, the place where he had hit the corner of the brickwork was especially bruised and tender. Even so.

"I'm not drinking this. I'll rest tonight and be back at classes tomorrow," Eric said grumpily.

"No." Alois's expression didn't change. He was still smiling politely. He didn't move but the room suddenly felt colder. The hairs on the back of Eric's neck stood on end. He turned away from the door, intending to pour the vial down the sink.

"Stop." The voice was like a crack of lightning. Eric froze in place, his foot half raised in step, balancing on his good leg.

"Turn around," Alois instructed calmly. Eric felt his body start to turn. He couldn’t understand what was going on. He thought he knew but the implication terrified him. He had always been able to recognise Alois's compulsion and once he recognised it, he had been able to shake it off. So why couldn't he this time? Was it because he was so injured and tired or was it more that the master vampire had never really tried before? 

"Alois-" The vampire raised a hand to cut him off.

"There is an aspect of compulsion that generally goes misunderstood by people," the man purred. Eric was limping back to the doorway. His hand shook around the cold little vial. 

“Allow me to explain…” he went on.

"Compulsion is far more affective if the order given is something in the realms of what the victim wants to do. Telling a perfectly ordinary person to murder their whole family would be an order they could potentially refuse if the vampire is not strong enough to override their will," Alois stated pleasantly. Eric shivered.

“Ordering them to lie to their family is much easier and more doable, even for a fledgling. Do you understand?” Alois asked.

"Why are you telling me this?" Eric whispered. The master vampire tilted his head ever so slightly.

"Invite me in Marcus." The words were warm and sweet, soothing his headache and causing a shiver. They seemed to slid under his skin, coiling around his vital organs and pull. Eric shook from head to toe even as he fell into that black gaze. He shook his head, eyes wide even as his mouth opened.

"Please come in." He heard himself say. 

The vampire smiled darkly and stepped through the doorway. 

\--

END

\--


	14. Consequences

-

Chapter Fourteen

Consequences

\--

"No!" Eric shouted but the damage was already down. He cowered back away from the door as the vampire swept into the room and quietly closed the heavy door behind him.

"You have a lovely apartment." Alois said as he removed his waistcoat and hung it on a hook by the door. The phoenix shrank back against wall, petrified and ashamed of what he just done. Alois had been able to compel him to break the house wards.

Eric tried to call of phoenix fire. He tried, but nothing happened. Alois gave a slim smile.

“I’m sorry little bird, but I dare say that stunt you pulled, whilst did save the lives of those worthless fae, has rather adequately drained you. If you were older such a fete would hardly be called taxing but as it is…” Alois captured Eric’s shaking hand in an icy grip.

“You don’t have the literal fire power to force me to leave.” Eric stared at the man in stunned horror.

“What do you want?” he rasped. Alois’s smile showed the edge of a fang.

“I told you already. I’m here to look after you,” the master vampire said as he backed Eric towards the couch. Eric’s bad leg buckled as it hit to edge of the couch. Pain stunned the air in his lungs and small white lights twinkled in his eyes as he went down with a sharp yelp. Cold fingers gently took hold of his calf. Trying to breathe without gasping, Eric looked down. Alois knelt, carefully inspecting his sort of healed calf.

“The woman managed to stitch your muscle then,” he said in a disapproving tone.

“Yes,” Eric croaked.

“You would have been better off to get stitches.” For one wild, terrifying moment, Eric thought those long claws would slice his calf through. His leg twitched.

"If Arwen finds out your here..." Eric spluttered. The quiet murmur of laughter that drifted from the vampire made the hairs along Eric's arms rise.

"You seem to be under the impression the old fae is a threat to me. Be at ease little bird with the knowledge that he is not," Alois purred.

"Come, you must eat and take your medicine." Before Eric could protest, Alois scooped him up and walked him back to the open bedroom. The master vampire paused on the threshold. His eyes snapped to each of the four sigils Beau had painted into the corners of the pale blue room.

"That explains a lot," the vampire hissed. The grip of those cold hands tightened to a dangerously painful degree.

"Put me down." Eric wished his voice came out stronger but his heart was hammering and his mouth was dry. Somehow, he had let this happen. He had left Alois in, given him permission and now he had no idea how to make the master vampire leave. The cold disgusted look on the creature's face eased a little when Alois glanced down at him.

"Of course, love. You must be hungry." As the vampire stepped into the room, Eric felt the shiver go through those iron hard arms and wondered just what kind of effect the sigils were having on the old vamp. As Eric was laid down on his own bed, he could feel the bruising where Alois's fingers had dug in.

Silently, he cursed himself for not having something near the bed to defend himself. He had always kept something close before he had full control of his abilities. Some of the more questionable places he had slept had taught him to always be ready whether it be for an attack or light fingers…

Since he had started living at Sunseeker Cove, he had relaxed his security. He hadn't taken into account that something like this could happening! Somewhere between his exhaustion, his fear and his hunger, Eric was also incredibly pissed with himself. He had never been this careless all those years running...

"Let's see... what can we organise for you?" Alois wasn't really talking to him. He wasn't looking at him either, just scrolling on his phone. Eric dragged himself into a sitting position, his leg protesting the movement. Alois's civil tone and drawing back of his aura allowed Eric heart to calm down and his stomach to rumble despite his current predicament.

"I'm fine," Eric said, already knowing he was wasting his breathe.

"I saw a lovely little Italian place on the way here. Ah, they deliver! I do love the modern age sometimes," said Alois with apparently delight, still starring at his screen. Eric knew the place he was talking about, red brick walls and the massive fireplace of the restaurant coming to mind. Unfortunately, his very mixed up body agreed as his stomach let rip another loud gurgle.

“It will be here in twenty minutes. Now,” Alois looked up, fixing his black eyes on Eric’s brown ones.

“Let’s have a talk.”

Eric flattened himself against the bed head as Alois sat on the edge of the mattress.

“I have allowed you a lot of freedom in the past few months.” Eric gave a dog like bark of laughter at this.

“Let me!?” he spluttered. The vampire nodded.

“Yes. Let you. I can see now that this was a mistake,” he said coolly. Eric glared.

“You don’t get to order me to do shit!” he spat.

“Language, Marcus. That sort of crudeness is beneath you,” Alois replied, unfazed.

“My name is Eric. Marcus died a long time ago,” Eric growled. The words were bitter in his mouth. He felt oddly resentful. Alois hadn’t been there when the fae had given him his bag and turned him out onto the street as live bait.

“You can’t imagine how upset I was to lose you. Be assured, I won’t let you out of my sight again. For that, I need you to end this silly little game you have going with the fae.”

“There is no game. They are teaching me how to control my powers. They are training me to be better,” Eric insisted.

“Yes, and do you know what for? Arwen says he’ll help capture your brother but you do understand why, yes? They need a partly turned thing to dissect and with your help, it doesn’t have to be one of their own.” Eric insides went cold. He stared at Alois, trying to discern any expression from the man’s face. The vampire’s mask was impenetrable, like finely carved ancient marble.

“Consequently, taking out the second and only other phoenix in this war makes a much cleaner and less dangerous victory,” the master vampire added. Eric shook his head.

“No, Arwen wouldn’t do that. He promised to help me,” he said, hands shaking.

“Really? And how well would you say you know the king? Catch up often, do you? Have supper together? Have you met his wives and husband?” Alois waited for the affect of his words. As Eric opened his mouth and no sound came out, the vampire’s serene smile turned into a nasty smirk.

“Of course not,” he said happily.

“I know him better then I know you,” Eric spat. That was…technically true. He knew one of Arwen’s sons had been taken and another had died. He didn’t know anything about Alois other then that he ruled his clan. Alois gave an elegant snort.

“Far be it for me to argue little bird. I suppose that would be own fault. Don’t worry though. I’m here to fix all of that now. We can get to know each other, just like before.”

“I am perfectly fine with the amount that we ‘know each other.’ Really,” Eric insisted drily. Alois sighed.

“I doubt that very much. Deny it all you like but I’m perfectly aware that you think about me. And often.” Eric felt his face go red hot. Frankly it made him a little dizzy. He really needed to eat something and soon before he passed out…

“I do no-”

“Don’t bother little bird. Deny it all you want but I still know,” the vampire said tapping his own temple. To Eric’s great discomfort, the vampire drew out the little vial.

“Do you know what this is?” Alois asked. Eric looked at the vial and felt the bottom of his stomach drop.

“It looks like blood,” he croaked. The vampire nodded.

“It is. Mine to be exact.”

“Why do you want me to drink it?” Eric croaked.

“Because it will link us, or rather, you to me. It will allow me to know your whereabouts. More importantly for now, it will help mend you.”

“No.”

"I'm afraid I must insist.” Alois uncorked the vial and Eric panicked.

“You’re going to force me to drink that?” he spluttered. The vampire quirked a black eyebrow.

“Yes. If that means that I to pin your lovely body down and pilling you like a wild cat then I will.” For the second time, Eric tried to call out his phoenix fire. He felt the spark but was to weak to feed it. Fear and exhausted battled for control over his motor skill as he kicked out weakly with his good leg. His only hope was to make it back out of the apartment. The door was better but the patio was closer.

He never even made it out of the bed.

Alois closed an iron hand around his good ankle and wrenched him over as though he weighed nothing. Eric yelped in panic, flailing. He would have punched but when he tried to sit up, his vision swam and Alois was suddenly three people instead of one.

The vampire battered his hand away and locked long clawed fingers around his jaw.

“Relax Marcus, this shouldn’t hurt.” Alois was not a bulky man. He did not appear to have Arwen’s broad shoulders or his height. He was only an inch or so taller than Eric, with a thin face and porcelain aristocratic features. With his immaculate suit and his neat wavey hair, he could have passed for the world’s most civil if creepy looking bank manager.

And yet despite Eric thrashing with everything he, the vampire didn’t move an inch. Eric gave a shout of frustrated terror as Alois squeezed his jaw, keeps his lips apart. Pain shot up his right arm as Alois used a knee to pin it to the bed. Eric’s left hand grabbed uselessly at the hand holding the vial. He couldn’t stop it from tilting or the cold, partly congealed liquid from hitting his tongue. His first reaction to the texture and taste of copper was to gag. Violently.

The second the small vial was empty, Alois threw it. Distantly Eric heard it shatter against the wall. One hand over his mouth, the other rubbing along his throat, Alois held his head to the pillows and encouraged him to swallow. Tears stung at Eric’s eyes as he gagged and choked on the blood. He couldn’t spit it out, couldn’t force the man off and couldn’t breathe with the weight pressing hard on his ribs. Choking, he stared into the black eyes.

“Swallow Marcus, don’t fight me. Just swallow. Relax.” The voice was honeyed and distant. It seeped into his throbbing skull and eased the roiling in his empty stomach. Against the distant voice screaming in his head, he swallowed. Alois was off him in a second but didn’t go far. Clearly, he didn’t want to risk Eric throwing it back up. He hovered close, rubbing Eric’s back in slow circles as Eric circled into the fetal position, trying to catch his breathe.

“Hate you,” he finally managed to choke out.

“No, you don’t little bird. Come now, lets get you into the shower.” At these words’ Eric curled tighter in on himself.

“Please, just leave me alone. I don’t want a shower,” he said thickly.

Unsurprisingly, the vampire ignored him. He scooped Eric up easily. With Eric’s bulk, it may have looked comical if he had been in the headspace to notice. Alois carried him into the bathroom and reached in to turn on the shower. Steam soon filled the room as the water heated up.

“I will let you get undressed. Don’t worry about your bandages, I’ll rewrap them with fresh ones once you are finish. If you try to force yourself to throw up, I will get int that shower with you, do you understand?” Alois asked, tilting Eric’s chin. Shivering, the phoenix gave a small nod. He wasn’t even sure he could make himself throw up. He felt so wretched already.

Alois left him to get undressed. It was not a particularly easy process. Every movement pulled on his bruised skin. He was determined though. As he moved, he could feel the grim and smell the smoke and tar. His hair was dusty as he stiffly removed his shirt. He eased himself carefully under the spray and slumped against the wall, his body sagging. What a fine mess he had gotten himself into.

He wasn’t even sure what to do next.

He couldn’t fight Alois, not when he could barely keep his eyes open. He washed sluggishly, blinking away water. It felt good to get the dried blood and sweat off his body. Several of the bandages came loose. When he turned the water off, he wrapped a towel around his waist.

“I’m coming in,” Alois said politely. Eric wobbled over to the toilet and sat down on the closed lid.

“Stay there and I’ll redress these.” He flinched at the first touch of icy fingers against his heated skin. Alois had found the kitchen scissors and gently cut away the wet bandages.

“You need to be more careful,” Alois murmured as he cleaned the cuts with cotton buds. The smell of antiseptic filled the air and Eric flinched again as it stung his open skin. Alois was surprisingly efficient and in little time, Eric had new bandages. He was less happy when Alois scooped him up again.

“My leg is sore, not gone,” he grumbled. The master vampire took him in the living area and laid him down on the couch. Eric was immediately struck with the strong delicious smell of food. His head snapped around to see a neat plastic bag on the coffee table. Apparently, the food had arrived which he had been in the shower.

He watched, slightly dumbfounded as Alois rummaged around the small kitchen to dig out a large dinner plate and cutlery. The master vampire then opened the containers and dumped out a large helping of meatballs, and salads. He passed it to Eric who accepted eagerly with trembling hands. A large wedge of hot buttery garlic bread was handed to him next along with an open bottle of water.

Eric ate with a speed that probably wasn’t wise but he was so desperate for food that at this point, he really didn’t care if his bulging cheeks made him look like a chipmunk. He tried to slow himself with sips of water but in the end, he cleared his plate with the same speed as a qualifying athlete in a food eating competition.

“Better?” Eric jumped at the sound of Alois’s voice. The vampire had been quiet whilst Eric ate. He had almost forgotten the man was there. He glanced up to see Alois sipping at a cup of tea. The mundane imagine was eerily contrasted with the bright blue veins on the man’s white hands and the glow of those black eyes.

“Are you going to leave now?” Eric asked. Alois sighed and put his cup down. He took the plate from Eric and set it aside. Eric swallowed nervously.

“Marcus…”

“Eric,” Eric corrected. The vampire sighed.

“Eric. I’m not leaving.” Alois scooped Eric up and slid in behind him until Eric was laying back against him on the plush couch. It was begrudgingly comfortable, the vampire’s cool skin against his. Alois grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and pulled it over them both.

Alois had opened the cladding door to the patio a little. The soft warm scent of the seaside slipped inside along with the smell of the white jasmine flowers that grew up the side of the brickwork outside. Eric tried to cobble some thoughts together but now that he had eaten and drunk, his body seemed to be shutting down. He watched the stars twinkling distantly outside the windows.

“You really do have a lovely apartment. Do you like it here?” Alois murmured, stroking back a few of Eric’ dark curls.

“Yes…” The word came out thickly. His limbs weren’t responding to him anymore.

“You chose a perfect spot for yourself.” What would the blood do to him? Would Alois be able to know what he was feeling, what he was thinking? Had he lost the freedom he had spent years earning?

“It was perfect,” Eric slurred dully.

“Don’t worry darling. With my blood in you veins, you won’t ever be alone again,” the vampire promised. Eric felt the man press a kiss to his cheek. Eric struggled to keep his eyes open as strong arms wrapped around him. It was a battle he couldn’t win.

The stars light dimmed in his eyes. Cradled and caged under the blanket, he felt him starting to drift. As warmth seeped into his bones, Eric’s head dropped back. There was gentle murmur, a brush of teeth and Eric was gone from the waking world.

\--

END

\--


	15. A Witch’s Promise

\--

Chapter Fifteen

A Witch’s Promise

\--

There was an odd pounding inside his head. Was it inside his head?

Eric gave a low groan. Despite everything feeling heavy, he was extremely comfortable. He groaned, blinking weakly. He was back in his bed. Someone had taken great care to tuck him in thoroughly. His electric blanket had been laid on top and left on a low setting, effectively turning Eric into a bird blanket burrito.

It took quite a bit of effort to wriggle his arm free and pickup the phone on his bedside table which someone had thoughtfully plugged into charger for him. Eric fumbled with the screen for a moment. It was 10:30 in the morning. Late for him but not insanely so. Until he caught sight of the date and nearly dropped the phone.

Holy Shit!

He had slept for over twenty-four freaking hours!

He also had four text messages and three missed calls. One each from Bec and Katie and a third from his boss at the book shop. He groaned. He wiggled himself into the sitting position. It was then that the knocking started up again. He was apparently wearing boxers. He didn’t remember putting them on though.

Slowly and gingerly, he stood, rocking his weight onto his left leg. When there was no sharp stab of pain, he leant a little more. His leg was a little weak but there was no trace of the bone deep cut that had crippled him. In fact, most of his cuts and scrapes were completely gone. He hurriedly grabbed a shirt to hid the bandages around his torso and went to the door.

“Oh, thank god, we were beginning to think you were dead!” Katie spluttered when he finally opened the door. She peered up at him anxiously. Eric knew he probably didn’t look great.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her eyes dark with worry.

“Sorry I didn’t answer my phone. I came back from the city feeling pretty wretched. I think I caught something whilst I was there, completely knocked me off my feet,” he lied. He really hated just how smooth and easy lying came to him these days but if it met keeping the people he loved out of harms way, then he would do it. Katie raised a hand and placed it on his cheek. He could feel the rough stubbled along his own jaw. He needed a shave.

“My gods you are warm!” she spluttered. This had more to do with the fact he was a phoenix and had been baking under an electric blanket but she didn’t need to know that.

“I need to call Carol and apologies,” he groaned. Katie shook her head.

“I need to go to the post office. I’ll stop on the way and tell her your sick. You go back to bed. Do you need anything? Have you got and cold and flu tablets? Are you drinking enough water?” she asked sternly. Eric gave a weak laugh.

“I only just woke up. Yes, I’ve got cold tablets.” She eyed him dangerously.

“Bed. I’ll bring you up some soup,” she said tartly.

“That really isn’t -”

“Bed!”

Bullied back inside his own apartment, Eric trudged over to the sink and filled up a glass. He drank down two glasses of water before opening a few of the curtains to let the light in. He pulled open the patio sliding door all the way to welcome the roar of the ocean and squawking of gulls.

Katie came and had left him a massive bowl of chicken soup and a threat to hang him by his ankles if she found out he wasn’t resting. He sent a message to Carol and Bec, apologising and explaining away his absence. He knew Katie would tell them but he wanted to touch base with them anyway.

The soup was delicious.

After, he took a fresh shower and was able to take off most of the bandages. He had healed fast, even for him. He wondered if that was because of Bella. As this crossed his mind, he had the strange feeling that not only was he wrong but that he was forgetting something. He paused, gaze travelling to the warn sunny balcony outside his sliding doors. The world seemed peaceful. So why did he feel uneasy?

Eric spent the rest of the day eating, stretching and sipping at his glass of water to make his body feel more normal. The stiffness was wearing off, the hot pain of the witch's knife now just a memory. That night had been an absolute disaster. Arwen had been so sure the coven would be able to hold one of those things in their trap.

Had they done it before or had he just been hoping? He felt oddly resentful and distrustful of the fae king and wasn't sure where the feelings came from. Arwen had seemed genuinely concerned for him when Eric had gone down. What had changed between them since then?

Katie and Bec came up separately to check on him. He made sure to put on his most ragged hoodie and baggy pants. It would difficult to explain why he had gone from looking like he was on death's door to being perfectly in the space of a couple of hours so he played up being sick. They had been quiet and sympathetic and Eric felt like shit lying to them. He had been brought up short as they had asked him if he needed anything.

For the briefest of moments, Katie’s tone had thrown him back in time. He and Dean had tried to play at being sick. He couldn't quite remember what they had been avoiding. Maybe it was the school's yearly athletics carnival or test week. Eric had bought a jar of pickled chillies and the boys had eaten enough to not only pretend being sick but had… actually made them fairly sick.

He had a vague memory of the blanket forte they had constructed around the television in the lounge room where they had curled up watching old movies with stomach aches and sweating what felt like pure chilli oil. He smiled sadly at the memory.

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. Frowning, Eric padded over. He really hoped they hadn’t come back again. As much affection as he had for the girls, this was getting ridiculous. When he swung the door open, he was greeting by golden hair and pointed ears.

"How do you feel?" Arwen stood on his doorstep, looking as usual, completely out of place in a gold and white dress shirt and pale grey slacks. Eric stared up at the tall fae, surprised by the concern he saw or the perfect features.

"Umm, I'm fine. I slept for the last couple of days, just a few lingering bruises and scrapes," he said with a light shrug. There it was again... that odd niggly feeling that he was forgetting something very important.

He wasn’t even sure to what context the forgotten memory was from. Was he forgetting to tell Arwen something? Nothing had happened in the past week unless he counted his near coma. What was it then?

“I’m glad you are recovered. I need your assistance, now if possible,” the fae said. Eric frowned.

“Sure. Why, has there been another attack?” He really hoped not. He hadn’t exactly been much use the last time anyway. The king shook his head, golden hair catching the evening sun like tinsel.

“No but it does take a bit of explaining. May I come in?”

“No.” The hardness of his own voice surprised him but not as much as the brief look of hurt that crossed the king’s face. He didn’t know why he was so adamant but he was suddenly sure he didn’t want Arwen to come inside his flat.

“No, it’s a mess in there right now. Let’s just go. You can explain on the way,” Eric said, as he stepped outside, his hand firmly closing the door behind him. Arwen frowned, elegant features pinching.

“Of course,” he murmured. He stepped back to allow Eric to pass and then followed him down the stairs.

“So, what’s new?” Eric didn’t look back over his shoulder. He still felt prickly toward the fae.

“After the failed capture of one of those creatures, the coven dispersed. They attempted to run, even attacked a few of my soldiers who were sent to apprehend them. We did manage to capture one of the witches. That is where we are headed to now,” Arwen explained. They tread the familiar path down to the laundry room.

They waited until a young couple strolled passed before slipping inside. Arwen waved one hand. Chills ran down Eric’s arms as the travel portal materialised in the doorway. Long since used to its strange shifting blackness, he stepped into it.

“So, what do you need me for?” Eric asked once they hit the other side. He shook away the dizziness and looked around.

It was an elegant hallway, plants glowing softly from their perches in the cracks of the walls and ceiling. He didn’t recognise the place but the plants and feel of the place told him they could not have been far from where he normally came in with Beau. Where the hell in the world that was.

“She has placed a silencing charm upon herself. We need you to burn it away so that we can question her and she can answer freely,” Arwen said. Eric frowned.

“Urhm, I’ve never done that before,” he admitted awkwardly.

“Bella will show you. I don’t imagine you will find it difficult.” The fae king started off again without another word. Eric sighed and then followed.

“Can I ask where we are?”

“Underhill.” Eric fought down another loud sigh.

“Is there any point in asking you to expand on that?” he asked as the fae walked in front of him with his usual dancer’s grace. The fae reminded Eric of a swam or maybe a crane. They always looked so poised and balanced.

“Underhill is the fae world that balances on the edge of the human world and those beyond it. It is a place of great magic and only those of magic can see or enter it,” Arwen explained in a vaguely disinterested tone. Eric on the other hand, was very interested.

“Other world!? Wait, should I even be here?” he spluttered. Arwen looked once over his shoulder.

“There are some of my people who would argue not,” the king confessed.

“Is it dangerous for me to be here?” Eric walked a bit faster so he could see the man’s face as they went. Arwen’s expression was guarded.

“I won’t let anything happen to you here. You’re safe.” That was… a very specific turn of phrase. Right. Then when he thought about it, even the mundane human stores about the fae and their world were generally not good. He walked a little faster.

The stone corridor seemed to drop lower and lower. The air was cooler and smelt of damp earth and wet moss. When they finally came to mouth of the corridor, the room beyond really couldn’t have been described as anything else. It was a dungeon. Suddenly uncomfortably nervous, Eric shifted on the spot as Arwen paused to look around.

“This way,” the king murmured in a hushed voice. It was clean… for a dungeon. The floors were polished and there was a desk with a neat stack of books and paperwork sitting in the centre. It was strangely ordinary looking. A bored looking male fae was sitting quietly behind the desk. At the sight of his king, the male leaps to his feet and bows. Arwen gave little more then a short nod before walking past him.

Eric could feel the guard’s gaze burning into the back of his head as he followed after the fae king. Just how many fae knew Eric was there and how many didn’t want him there? Did they consider him a threat or did they just not want an unknown supernat walking around their world? It was probably a bit of both.

At the end of another passage which was actually reasonably lit with lamps, Arwen came to a stop. Eric joined him. There were no metal bars to stop people going in or out of the room he now stared into. Instead, runes and glyphs were meticulously carved into the stone work all the way around. The closer he got to the them, the more loudly they hummed inside his head until it felt like his entire skull was vibrating. He shook his head, eyes not able to focus.

“My apologies, here,” Arwen reached out and took hold of Eric’s hand. The man’s palms was warm and sent an electric tingle up Eric’s arm. The loud buzzing faded to a fair more tolerable murmur. Now that he was able to focus without his brain feeling like it was about to dribble out of his nose, Eric peered inside the cell.

It to was simple a neat with a low bed, a tiny desk and chair, a toilet and a sink. Huh. Fae had plumbing. Good to know. There was also three people inside. One was a woman with messy dark hair and pale skin. She looked wild and desperate, her dark eyes darting this way and that. The other two were fae. Bella gave Eric a tired smile.

“You look well,” she said. Eric nodded.

“I am, thank you.” Arwen stepped through whatever runes barrier was in place, tugging Eric after him. As they crossed the threshold Eric shuddered violently. He didn’t like being in here. He could all to easily imagine what it would be like to not be able to get back out again. Arwen let go of his hand.

“Witch. You know why you are here. Our phoenix will burn away you charm and you will tell us what we want to know,” Arwen order. Eric bristled.

“I’m not your anything,” he said tartly. The king appeared suddenly deaf and didn’t answer him. The witch spat onto the ground, her eyes meeting Eric’s. She was kneeling, her hands bound in front of her in iron shackles.

It was then, when she looked directly at him that he recognised the woman. It was the witch who had sliced open his leg.

“What do I do?” Eric growled, suddenly a lot less sympathetic. Bella left the witch to stand beside him.

“You will need to concentrate. Use your inner vision to see the charm around her. Find its base sigil and burn it away with your phoenix fire,” she said in a low voice. Eric nodded. He closed his eyes and took in a slow breath. The witch’s aura was visible in his mind’s eye. It flickered green. He watched with a frown as it seemed to get brighter than dimmer then brighter again. He’d never seen an aura flex like that. Was this due to the charm?

The charm itself was a complicated weave of tangled threads. It reminded him of the sticky weeds that used to grow on his soccer oval when he and Dean where kids, the weeds clinging to their socks and shoes with annoying persistence.

He called his fire, feeling the warmth bloom in his chest. The flames trilled, delighted to be kindled for the first time in days. He stared into the dark, focusing on the largest sigil.

He heard the fae gasp as he set to the spell, his own magic eating through the witch’s charm. Opening his eyes, he saw the crisscross of gold and copper sparks clashing with the sickly green lines in mid-air. The magic ricocheted inside the cell, screeching like to living beast locked together in battle. It was clear that Eric’s phoenix was the victor as the green dwindled away to nothing.

The witch scream, her limbs twitching as she fell sideways. The male fae Eric didn’t know by name grabbed her shoulder and roughly forced her back onto her knees.

“Now. Tell us why you betrayed us,” Bella ordered. The witch snarled.

“You think your all untouchable!” she sneered.

"Why did you do it?" The fae king's voice was hard and merciless, its normally melodic tone slicing through the air like its own brand of magic. The woman flinched away from him, huddling in on herself and clutching at her iron chains.

"To win their favour." Eric flinched this time. The woman's voice sounded like a death rattle. It was as though parts of her voice box were corroding.

“Their favour? Those monsters?” Bella clarified. The woman nodded, though her lips were pulled back over her teeth like a starved rat.

“They are not monsters. They are old, they are the true ancients, here before us humans and to be after we have gone,” she hissed. Eric frowned.

“Are you saying you know what they are?” he asked. He could still see the odd flicker to her aura. It was still dimming though the phoenix had long since dissipated. Exactly what had Arwen done to her to capture her?

“Yessss.” The sound made the hair on his arms stand up.

“What are they?” Arwen barked. The witch looked from one to the other, her eyes appearing to sit to far back inside her skull.

“They are the shadows that shift when you’re not looking. They are the feeling of the watched, the movement under the bed. They what eat the remains of the dead and change the ones they need,” she giggled. Eric’s mouth had gone dry.

“Arwen…” he said warningly.

“They are the Wraith and they have been breeding,” she purred just as her teeth sharpened to little black points and the last of her human green aura flickered out and died.

\--

END

\--


	16. Politics

\--

Chapter Sixteen

Politics

\--

She was already beginning to change.

Whoever or however they had infected the woman, the transformation was happening with shocking speed. The hair of her head was peeling away like a wig, taking great sloughs of her scalp with it. Her fingernails grew, wrists cracking as they twisted about in her restraints.

“Do something!” Eric barked, backing away. Bella rushed forward, her hand rising. She began to chant the words coming at as fluent fae. Eric had never heard the fae language before. The effect was visceral, the language pouring out thick and melodic, twisting inside his head and coiling through his guts. Eric choked, his legs giving out as layers of pure fae bound the air and spread thick through his veins like antipsychotic haloperidol.

Someone may have called his name but his vision was winking in and out as his limbs lost their ability to move. He hit the ground, his field of view swimming as the witch writhed and screamed as her contorting body fought the fae magic that was trying to bind it.

“Bella, stop!” Arwen lunged for the sun fae, breaking her for her incantation. Eric lay of his side, oxygen coming in to short sharp gasps, his muscles twitching. Bella looked back at him in shock, her pristine face losing all colour at the sight of Eric on the ground.

“But how? I didn’t-” The witch let out a blood curdling squeal, the last of her humanity vanishing as she fell to all fours, hip bones cracking as her legs spread out to either side of her skeletal body. The other fae lunging for the witch, sword in hand. The creature twisted violently, snapping the chains. Before Arwen could shout a warning, the witch wraith racked her claws clean through the charging man’s throat, severing muscle and tendon in one sharp motion of blood. The man’s face looked vaguely stunned before his head lulled sideway, connected only by a small portion of sinew and ligament.

Eric rolled onto his hands and knees, fighting his body’s desire to vomit. He swallowed down bile and cold saliva as he staggered to his feet. His feet slithered slightly in a large pool of blood. A loud gong was vibrating throughout the room. He was being pulled backward by the collar of his shirt.

Eric was sent stumbling and falling as fae poured into the small cell, trying to kill the wraith. He watched; his mind’s eye still remarkably clear as the wraith absorbed the dying fae’s aura into its own black maw.

As it did, it almost doubled in size, sucking on the shadows and filling the room. A hand grabbed Eric by the upper arm. He tried to shove the man back. He wanted to swing at him, make him let go.

“Stop attacking it, you’re only making it worse!” he shouted. No one seemed to hear him though. A young woman, a ball of fire in hand lunged for the wraith. It turned what used to be a head in her direction. The fire was sucked from her grip like a black hole accepting a star.

Carried forward by her own momentum, the female fae screamed in terror and pain as she collided bodily with the thing. Clothing, skin, muscle and hair was sucked from her body into the creature’s mass, her scream only dying when her throat dislodged from the bone.

“Get away from it!” Eric screamed. Another set of hands was pulling on him, trying to take him from the room. This time he did swing. His fist collided with someone’s jaw and the fingers let go of him. Eric stumbled towards the growing wraith, calling every ounce of phoenix fire he had. There was shouting, Arwen’s voice for his soldiers to fall back. Eric raised his hands and let go of everything his soul could spare.

Heat, unlike anything Underhill had ever felt, blasted into the small space. The cell’s binding spells bent, cracked and then shattered under the immense power of the flames that roared into the room. Stones exploded and bodies were thrown. Eric couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, could only channel that eternal flame that marked the beginning and end of his life.

The wraith’s death screams were all but drowned in the deafening roar of the all-consuming fire. Its body could not hold the fire, could not match its ferocity and slowly, Eric’s inferno consumed it until nothing was left. When he lowered his hands, the room was a silent blackened shell.

Eric swayed on his feet and then fell, distantly thankfully when someone caught him before his head hit the ground.

\--

“My spell should not have affected him like that.” Bella’s voice seemed to be coming from very far away as thought from a television turned down low in another room.

“Did you know he could do that sire?” asked a male voice Eric didn’t recognise.

“Not entirely. I knew those creatures feared the heat and light. I had hoped he would be strong enough to kill one but this was the first time I have ever seen true phoenix fire in battle,” Arwen murmured. Perhaps it was his exhaustion but to Eric’s ears, the king sounded worried.

“He could have killed us all,” snarled someone else.

“Would you have preferred that thing to have slaughtered us instead?” Bella snapped back.

"What I can't understand is how the woman was infected without our notice or why Bella couldn't hold it," someone barked.

"My spell was working. I only stopped once I realized it was harming Eric. It shouldn't have affected him the way it did. It was designed to bind those touched by the dead," Bella interjected.

“He’s a child. How do you expect to control him? That amount of power hasn’t been seen since ancient times.”

“We can’t just lock him away. We need that power to defeat these creatures.”

“All of you shut up. The boy isn’t deaf.”

"No, I'm not," Eric agreed. The voices halted abruptly. He opened his eyes to stare up at a sculpted stone ceiling. Groaning softly, he heaved himself up into a sitting position. It seemed he still couldn't over use his phoenix fire without passing out. At least this time he lacked the head injury and could clearly remember what happened. Her voice changing, her limbs twisting, her bones grinding together, her aura winking out...

"How are you feeling?" Bella asked as she came towards him, shunting a man out of the way. Eric's gaze settled on the man's face. He was scowling, his pointed ears, orange hair, narrow eyebrows and sharp cheekbones making him look like an evil-tempered fox. The man was apparently also a sun fae and by how he held himself, probably high up in Arwen's court. Eric might have considered him good looking if wasn't for the fact that he was staring at Eric as though he were something particularly smelly.

The small group of people was made up of six or seven fae including Dorran. The dusk fae gave Eric a small nod. The man still had a long healing cut on his right cheek. He also recognised Soora, one of Arwen's generals.

"Fine, just a little drained. Who brought the witch in?" Eric asked as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed.

"Don't try to stand up yet," Bella said, hovering close.

"I did," fox face sneered, cutting her off.

"Was she limping? Holding her arm at odd angle, anything like that?" Eric asked. The man's lip curled revealing oddly small canines amongst his white teeth.

"Her injuries were not my concern," he growled, drawing himself up. Eric rolled his eyes.

"I get that everything un-fae disgusts you but you really need to get over that, lordling, because her injury was probably a bite which would have been the infection point," Eric pointed out dryly. Two spots of rosy colour touched the man's face.

"I don't answer to you, boy. I am the-"

"Look, you could be the true queen of England herself and I'd still call you a stuck up self-entitled borderline racist asshole. I don't kowtow to Arwen, I sure as shit am not going to start with you," Eric stated coldly, silencing the sun fae who stared at him, apparently lost for words. Beren barked out a laugh. Arwen gave a quiet groan.

"I warned you to mind your words with him cousin," Arwen sighed. Eric raised an eyebrow.

"This guy is your cousin? My condolences." A young fae woman at the back of the party seemed to choke. Beren didn't seem to care if anyone disapproved and roared with laughter.

"Please try to restrain yourself Beren," Bella said with a sharp look. The old soldier snorted but managed to get himself under control.

"Well. I now see what you mean. He lacks discipline and respect," the fox man said. Fed up already, Eric stood, grateful that his slightly wobbly legs took his weight. Unfortunately, he wasn't taller than this fae but he met the lord head on.

"I respect people who earn it," he spat.

"My dear cousin seems very fond of you, little phoenix. I happen to think you would do better in a smaller cage," the man said in a low voice. Eric glared up at him, hating the way the fae smelt like warm fresh air, cherry wood and fucking flowers.

"What a pity for you that I don't belong to you, your cousin or your court," Eric growled. The man's lip curled.

"We shall see."

"Enough!" Arwen stepped between the two of them.

"This isn't helpful. We are here to discuss what we have learnt, not to bicker," the king said calmly. Fox face held Eric's gold eyes for a moment longer before stepping back with a nod. Eric glared but sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"We have a name for these creatures now," Bella offered, trying to break the nasty tension of the room.

"I thought wraiths were just bad spirits that didn't cross over or something," Eric said with a frown.

"They are a sort of undead but wraith are of the old world. I wasn't aware they had been seen in many centuries," Bella offered, brushing back her mane of red curls.

"Wraith don't really belong on earth's plane of existence which explains why they don't make any sound and can move between spaces that shouldn't fit them," Dorran added, speaking up for the first time.

"So, they are like a kind of invasive species?" Eric asked. Arwen hummed softly.

"It could be looked at as such," the king said with an agreeing nod.

"They seem to be parasitic, needing a host to reproduce. The infection is complete when the host's aura is gone," Eric added thoughtfully.

"What makes you say that?" Soora asked, his expression faintly alarmed.

"I have seen quite a few of those things now. I've notices that the smaller ones still have an aura. When they attacked us, one had an aura and the other wraith kept forcing it back, as though it was too young to fight," Eric explained. He left out the part where he had thought for a moment it might have been Dean.

"But the witch changed instantly!" Fox fae said waspishly.

"She wanted to; I doubt most of the kids did." Eric said. The group went silent again, everyone absorbing this new information for a few moments.

"So... if they still have an aura, they might be saveable?" asked the young woman. Eric knew without asking that she had lost someone. Her eyes were wide and faintly red. Her clothing was a soft pastel collection of draped fabric. She was very pretty with a round cherub face and neatly braided brown hair flecked through with gold. She looked incredibly out of place. Even Bella in her leathers and stern features looked more battle ready then this delicate speckled fae woman.

"Maybe. It would be difficult to say how though," Bella said in a gentle tone. The woman swallowed audibly; dainty hands clasped in front of her.

"But there's a chance," she said, lip trembling.

"We are back to where we started then. We need to work with the other-"

"Fae do not work with vampires or any other species," fox face snarled.

"Your old fashion thinking will be our extinction cousin," Arwen said coldly then added;

"I don't like this anymore then you do Kadrek, but wraith born from fae are immune to fae magic. We need help.”

"I thought that was why you took the phoenix." The sun fae who was apparently named Kadrek turned his gaze back to Eric. Eric glared at him.

"Okay, first off, he didn't take me. I offered to come. Secondly, I can't fight these things by myself. I passed out after killing one," Eric pointed out. Kadrek sniffed dismissively.

"So, the bird needs more training. I can take over his training. He will learn under my discipline."

"Excuse me!?"

"There’s no time!" Soora snapped. Beren was shaking his head and Bella was looking annoyed. No one seemed to particularly like the king's cousin.

"You don't have the authority to order Eric to do anything," Arwen said flatly. Kadrek's lips twisted into a cold smile.

"Not yet cousin but if things continue on the same trend, I may soon. Your court and your phoenix will belong to their rightful owner. Me." Kadrek turned on his heel and starting to walk away. The trembling fae woman glanced once in Arwen's direction, bowed and then followed.

"I could set him on fire. Just give me a minute," Eric growled. The king shook his head and placed a hand on Eric's shoulder, steadying him.

"No. You need to rest. I'll have Beau take you home. Thank you for your help. You saved a lot of lives today. I won't forget what you have done for us," Arwen murmured.

"What the hell was he going on about ‘taking over your court?’" Eric asked, standing to leave with them. The fae king glanced towards the door Kadrek had just left through.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, just internal politics." It was a lie if ever Eric had heard one. He narrowed his eyes. The usually perfect face of the king looked tired. His long sheet of golden and silver hair had come partly out of its pony tail and part of his coat was cut, probably during the fight with the wraith. Arwen gave Beren a nod and Eric' instructor stepped forward.

"Come on, let's get you back," Beren grunted. The others were already leaving. They turned left outside in the corridor and Eric and Beren went right.

"You don't seem to like Kadrek much," Eric noted as they walked. Beren shrugged one soldier.

"Kadrek is more for politics then battle but Arwen's lack of results is starting to agitate the people. They may ask for his resignation of the crown if the wraith aren't stopped."

"Hold up, the fae king is decided by vote?" Eric spluttered. Beren looked back at him.

"Of course. We aren't barbarians, though those of powerful magical families are generally the ones chosen to apply for the crown. Kadrek has as much right to the throne as Arwen." Eric blinked.

It was probably redundant to say out loud that he really didn't think that asshole should be in charge of anyone.

\--

Beau met him at the portal and brought him back through. It took his eyes awhile to adjust to the warm bright sun back at the Sunseeker Cove after the gloom of the softly glowing Underhill caverns. He turned to thank Beau but the young fae had already disappeared.

Sighing, Eric headed upstairs to his apartment, thinking longingly of a hot shower, a strong coffee and maybe ordering something from the restaurant. He wandered vaguely if he should have told Arwen that Dean had been one of the wraiths that had attacked them. Perhaps the king already knew?

That brought up a whole new host of questions, like how did the man know where to go and how to track them? Arwen had stood up for him today and yet Eric still felt oddly distrustful. Something told him that Arwen was no good. Frowning he made to open the door to his apartment. He glanced down a swore under his breathe. His favourite sneakers were stained dark with blood.

He had almost forgotten about all the blood in the inferno that had followed. He glanced quickly back down the stairs but thankfully, he hadn’t left any bloody footprints behind him from the laundry room. Jesus, that would not have been fun to clean up or explain if someone had found them.

Peeling off his damp sticky sneakers and his socks with a grimace, Eric let himself in and went straight into the bathroom. His shirt and jeans were almost as bad. He was going to have to buy a wardrobe to wear specifically for fae visits if this kept up.

Muttering darkly, he stripped quickly and got under the hot spray and started to scrub yet another disaster from his body. As he worked up a lather, his hesitated. All of this felt very familiar and yet wrong. Something was wrong.

He tried to wrack his brain but he couldn’t think of what it could be. In fact, he was struggling to think at all. The wraith attacked, he hit his head. He got cut up pretty badly. Bella had met him back at his apartment. She had healed him.

Then she had left?

What time was that?

Why couldn’t he remember?

A lump formed in his throat. Eric lowered his heads, watching the subs flowing from his fingers. He realized his hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking.

Something else happened after Bella had left. Just as this thought came into perfect clarity, he heard the front door of his apartment click open.

\--

END

\--


	17. Unwanted Company

\--

Chapter Seventeen

Unwanted Company

\--

Eric stumbled from the shower, wrenching the water off. He didn’t even bother with a towel and just struggled his wet legs into a pair of shorts. Who was letting themselves into his apartment? Only Pete had a spare swipe card and the man had never invaded Eric’s privacy. He knew that absolutely and for sure because his security sigils would have told him if a mundane human had forced entry.

His sigils…

His inner sight caught a look at the wards guarding his home. It felt as though his stomach was in his throat as he saw how warped they had become. How the fuck had he not noticed!?

As Eric rounded the corner out of the bathroom, the door swung open and Alois stepped through without an invitation. He didn’t need one.

Because Eric had already invited him in.

Memories of the last few days crashed down on his with all the finality and brutality of a tidal wave. His eyes widen and his spine stiffened. How could he have forgotten?

“Good evening,” Alois said pleasantly.

“You!” Eric held out his arm, his phoenix fire responding to his mix of anger and panic. Just as it threaded through his blood, Alois smiled and shook his head.

“Let’s not have any violence, little bird. It’s early.” Alois snapped his fingers. To Eric shock, his fire just… died.

“The fuck did you do to me!?” Eric shouted.

“Language.”

His own thoughts and feelings over the last day or so suddenly made a lot more sense. His sudden powerful distrust of the fae, his unwillingness to leave. They weren’t his feelings, they were Alois’s. He remembered being made to drink the blood, he remembered passing out on the couch.

His own weakness had caused him to invite Alois in.

Eric stepped back, his wet feet catching on the carpet of his bedroom, fear and panic accelerating his heart rate until it was pounding against his ears. Alois looked a little less supernatural today. He must have recently fed because his complexion was not the snow white of his undead state. His black eyes were softened, and his clothes were less formal in slacks and a sweater. The vampire held his hands out in a placating manner.

Eric couldn’t breathe. His chest was heaving. He felt like he was back at his burning house, the darkness on all sides, the ambers in his lungs and ashes in his eyes. He couldn’t think straight. He stumbled backward, knocking into his nightstand and sending the lamp crashing to the floor.

“Eric…”

“Stay back, stay away from me!”

“Marcus.” The sound of his old name jolted him. He was starting to get dizzy from lack of oxygen. Distantly, very distantly, he was aware that he was having a panic attack. Cold hands took told of his burning forearms. His vision was blurred with tears as the air came in and out of his throat in painfully uneven gasps.

“Marcus, breathe love.” He shook his head, trying to blink away tears. The grip tightened a little. His knees buckled as he was eased down onto the carpet. He shook his head, his mop of black curls falling in his face as he crumpled. Cold encircled him as Alois pulled him into a tight embrace. The odd low body temperature of the man was soothing against the inferno of his own skin. Alois rocked him.

“I have you. Breathe,” he murmured. Eric shoved but it was like fighting against the foundations of the building. Nothing of the man was soft to the touch except his clothing. He was immoveable. Caged in, Eric was forced to be still. Slowly, painfully, he stopped struggling.

“That’s it,” Alois was murmured into the top of his head. Eric squeezed his eyes shut. He never wanted any of this to happen. He had just started to rebuild some form of a life. He had a home, a job, friends and now he was losing it all.

“Why?” Eric rasped. Tucked into Alois’s frame, he was struck by the eerie reminder that the man had no heartbeat. The chest only rose and fell when the vampire spoke, the air passing into his lungs to work his voice box.

“I thought that was obvious. I want to keep you safe.”

“You didn’t do this for my benefit, you did it for yours,” Eric said in a hollow voice.

“Partly, I won’t deny that. You were pulling away from me. I knew if the fae could find a way to keep you, they would. You don’t know the fae king the way I do.” What hurt was that on a level Eric knew the man was right. He had been awake for the discussed about his containment. Most of the fae seemed to think he was a dangerous animal.

“You don’t care about me. You only care about what I can do for you,” Eric said in a deadened tone. He excepted a rebuke of some kind. What he got was a slow heavy sigh. Eric shivered as cold fingers grasped his jaw and turned his face to meet the man. Eric’s eyes widened as he found himself nose to nose.

The touch of cold lips against his froze him in place. The distant roar of the sea seemed somehow even more muted in this space they had created. Alois didn’t press the kiss, just held the contact and when Eric finally snapped out of his shock and jerked back, Alois didn’t try to stop his retreat.

“What did you do that for?”

“To prove a point. You are more then a thing to me Marcus, whoever you decide to call yourself. I believe in mutual exchange. You help me and I will help you. I am going to help you get your brother back and you are going to help me kill those things.” The vampire stood and walked into the kitchen. Feeling stunned, Eric got unsteadily to his feet and followed. Alois took out a chilled bottle of water and cracked the top. He handed it to Eric. Eric’s hand shook as he accepted the bottle and took a few sips.

“What did you do to my house sigils?” he croaked finally.

“An unfortunate side effective. I do try to mask my aura, but I am quite old. The death magic that is required to reanimate my kind is uniquely powerful. As such, it tends to warp other magics in this world.” Eric paused, bottle halfway to his lips. He looked over at Alois.

“Death magic… is that same branch of magic that the wraith use?” he asked, mind starting to process again. Silence met his question.

“So, they are wraith… I had heard rumours, whispers from ghost long gone…” Alois murmured, his expression drawn.

“And how did you come to this discovery? What exactly were you doing today?” Alois propped a hip on the arm of the couch, poised. Eric’s lips twisted downwards. Perhaps sensing that he was considering not answering, Alois added:

“I can smell the blood, little bird, so please don’t lie.” Eric glanced in the direction of his bathroom where his bloody singed clothes were still laying in a heap. He sighed.

“Arwen and his men managed to capture one of the witches and bring her in for interrogation,” Eric explained. He walked over to the patio door and slid it open, letting the ocean breeze ruffle his damp hair.

“How did they manage to capture the witch?” the vampire asked. Eric shrugged.

“I didn’t ask but it’s my suspicion that she let herself be caught,” Eric admitted.

“Because she was infected?” Eric spun to face him.

“How did you know that?” It was Alois’s turn to shrug.

“It seemed logical. Though I wasn’t there at the start of the battle, I did arrive to see the spells disintegrate. The work was flawed, purposely so for such a catastrophic failure. The witches wanted either your capture or your death. I imagined they were in league with these creatures. Why, is hard to say.” Eric took another drink of water.

“She placed a silencing spell on herself… Arwen said they needed me to burn through it.”

“Idiots. No doubt she did so on purpose to get you alone with her as she transformed. You are still young. There was a chance she was able to end your life before you could rally yourself.”

“She nearly did,” Eric admitted softly. Alois huffed.

“The fae’s arrogance will be their downfall,” the vampire said with some satisfaction.

“And you are without arrogance?” Eric asked flatly. Alois smirked, showing a single fang.

“Are you still angry with me?” Eric stared; mouth partly open.

“Are you kidding me?! I’m fucking furious! You forced me to drink your blood. You stopped my phoenix fire! You invaded my home!” Eric shouted. Alois stood up from the couch and came toward him. Eric froze, the patio to his back. He couldn’t use his fire to defend himself from this man.

“Whether you like it or not, you are still a very young man. You are barely the legal age to be considered an adult.” Eric’s eyes flashed gold.

“I looked after myself just fine for years,” he snarled, stung by the comment.

“Living without living, pardon the pun. I think you need someone to make some of these decisions for you, to decide how dangerous a situation is. Someone you can’t bully away or run from.”

“Funny how that description also matches a serial killer,” Eric growled. Alois gave him an appreciative smile.

“You need protecting.”

“And who is going to protect me from you?” Eric barked. The vampire gave a deep sigh.

“You don’t trust me.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Did my blood heal you?” Eric opened his mouth and then shut it again, fuming. The water from his bottle splashed out and onto the floor. He cursed, putting down the now crushed plastic bottle. Before he could move Alois was beside him with a dishcloth. The master vampire crouched down and started to mop up the water.

“I have lost a lot of children to this war. More then I ever thought possible. Some of the family I have had for hundred of years had their second deaths before I could even bid them farewell,” Alois’s tone was sombre. He didn’t look at Eric as he folded the dish clothe and stood.

“I see this as a chance to put things right. I did not believe in the true gravity of the situation. With your power, my numbers and the fae’s magic, we can finally stop these creatures from spreading.” Alois placed the wet dishtowel in the sink. Eric pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Just tell me one thing, will your blood wear off?” Eric asked.

“Yes, eventually.” Eric shook his head.

“I’m still angry with you.” And afraid. He didn’t add that last part. Alois could kill him, but, he reasoned, the man had never threatened him before. Still, the man had his own motives. He could easily be lying but for the moment Eric didn’t have much of a choice but to trust his word.

“Come, perhaps a cup of tea and something to eat and you can update me on what you have learnt,” Alois said as he pulled out a chair and sat at the small table.

It was a bizarre situation, to be making tea in his apartment with a vampire keeping him company. Eric was too tired and distracted to cook anything, so he pulled out some carrots and biscuits and a tub of dip. Alois sipped at his tea as Eric picked at the food. The master vampire allowed a few minutes to eat and drink before inclining his head.

Eric started to explain. He left out the part about Kadrek. He had a thought that telling the vampire about political problems would not be a good idea. The man didn’t need more leverage over Arwen then he already had.

“But you were able to destroy the wraith?” Alois asked thoughtfully.

“Yes, but it drained me. I passed out again.”

“And she would have been considered an infant of her kind. A wraith of many centuries may be able to withstand your flames.” That was a worrying thought.

“So, what now?” Eric murmured, staring down into his half-drunk tea.

“We need to do some recruiting,” Alois said. Eric frowned.

“What?”

“The fae need to start calling in the favours they have accrued. We need as many people as we can with as big as diversity as we can. Fae magic doesn’t work on other fae of wraith who were born from a fae host so those particular wraiths will need to be exterminated by someone else,” Alois explained. Eric nodded.

“The true problem will be finding away to discover what each wraith was born from. Hard to do in the heat of battle,” the vampire added. They lapsed into silence. Suddenly, Eric stilled. A memory, old and almost forgotten bubbled to the surface. Something his mother had once shown him when he and Dean were starting high school…

“I think I might know a way,” Eric stated.

“Well then, best contact Arwen and arrange another meeting with the three of us. We have a war to plan.”

“I’ll call him.”

A pause. Eric sighed.

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Eric asked uneasily. Alois raised a well-groomed eyebrow.

“I can leave. If you would rather be alone, that is.” This surprised Eric a little. After everything that had happened, he had expected the vampire to announce that he would stay. It wasn’t as though Eric could force him to leave, not when the master had the ability to cancel out Eric’s flames.

And then there was the weirdness of that kiss. To give himself some thinking time, he carried the cups to the sink and began to rinse them out. He shivered. That kiss was too damn confusing to process right that minute.

“I… I need to get some sleep so it would be better if you left,” Eric said slowly. Alois gave no complaint, just rose from his chair and smiled.

“Then I will let you rest. Contact Arwen and let me know when we are meeting. Rest well, little bird.” Alois ran his fingers across Eric’s cheek. Eric stayed still, feeling the cool fingertips over his warm skin. In the blink of an eye, the master vampire had turned and was gone through the front door.

Eric headed over to it and locked it, for whatever ridiculous good that would do him. Finally, he was alone again. His heart rate was steadily settling back to a normal rhythm. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head thunk against the front door. It was then he remembered that he wasn’t wearing anything other than a tight pair of slightly damp shorts.

“Damn it,” he growled. What an absolute shit show his life had become. He stalked into his bedroom and rescued his lamp from the floor. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken. Next, he found his phone and then scrolled through the contacts. When he found the number he was looking for, he tapped the screen. It rang three times before the fae picked up.

“Eric?”

“Arwen, pick a day and time. We need to meet,” Eric sighed.

“I can have Beau come and collect you first thing to-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Alois will be there too.” Eric heard the man draw in a sharp breath.

“Somewhere reasonable, open and public. This is important. We have a plan,” Eric said. Arwen was silent for so long Eric thought he might hang up before he finally spoke.

“Alright. Leave it with me. I will text you the details once I have selected a location. Are you alright?” the king’s concern was a little touching if out of place. Eric nodded even though the man couldn’t hear him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired. I’m getting ready to turn in,” he replied.

“Good night Eric,” Arwen murmured.

“Night,” Eric responded and then disconnected the call. He stared down at his phone. Well, today had certainly not been what he had expected.

\--

END

\--


End file.
